


This is Home Now

by KrumPuffer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Love, Oral Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 61,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrumPuffer/pseuds/KrumPuffer
Summary: Nymphadora Tonks is being taken to a safe house at the peak of the war as there is a major target on her head.  To her surprise her new roommate is also one of her most hated enemies.  Can she learn to trust him in the small confines of the safe house or will they start a war of their own under the barriers that are supposed to protect them?
Relationships: Severus Snape/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed fic that I have split into three chapters because I'm a mom and I didn't have time to post individual chapters. 
> 
> I wrote for my dear friend Katie. This is a very rare pair and I had no idea I would love them so much. So, thank you Katie for encouraging me to write these two. I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

<https://krumpuffera03.tumblr.com/post/627911636752220160/show-chapter-archive>

This is Home Now

Dora

_Entry 56_

_I am in the back of a muggle vehicle, a van. My wand is gone. My family may be dead. There is a target on my back, and I’m headed to some unknown location, a safe house, with people I have never seen or maybe no people at all. I don’t know any details. I only know that to not have my wand makes me powerless, but to not have my family makes me lifeless. I don’t know how I will survive this. And I have survived so much, but this, this is the end of the line for me. This war has gone on too long and I thought I would make it to the end, but I feel so defeated._

_I am defeated._

_We may all be. This may be the last days of the wizarding world as we know it._

_So much blood has been shed. Innocent and guilty. There is blood on my hands and stains covering the wands of many._

_Last I saw my father was nineteen entries ago and I can only measure the days and weeks with this journal. My mother has been missing weeks longer than that and I fear she was killed in the blast at the railway, that took the lives of fourteen Hogwarts students._

_Harry Potter, dead._

_Hermione Granger, missing._

_Ron Weasley, captured._

_Remus Lupin… Remus… my Remus…_

_We counted on three young lives to save us. And we were wrong._

_Dumbledore was wrong and he is dead._

_Snape is missing. Suspected to be at the right hand of the Dark Lord._

_The van is slowing down. This may be my safe place, or this may be my final hour._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_I am one of the last standing half-bloods._

The back door to the van flew open as I tucked my journal into my small bag and three men in all black grabbed me, I held on tight to my bag, filled with meaningless things. I grabbed on not because I cared what was in the bag, I grabbed on because there was nothing else to hold on to. What was a bag of clothes and a journal and a few mementos to someone who was ultimately dead inside? 

The men walked close, and one grumbled, ‘keep your head down.’ when I looked around at the long street of houses, run-down, no front yard, just a stoop and a flat building going up a good four stories. Looked a bit like London, but I knew in my gut it wasn’t anywhere near home. I had been flown here, on a muggle plane for hours. Then transported from three different vans, and now I’m here, and the accents changed after the flight, American, maybe eastern United States. I was definitely far from home. 

Home? There’s no such thing as home anymore. Best get the image of home from my mind sooner than later. 

As we walked up the steps to a house, or apartment of sorts, I tried to take in as much information about the place as I can. Even though my fight felt like it was over, old habits die hard and the auror in me said, memorize every detail.

The buildings are brick, they are all built together, they all have identical doors with a black wrought iron gate closing them in. This door has a welcome mat that says, “Wipe your Paws.” I Think of Sirius, dead. I think of Lupin, dead. I think of Hagrid too, not because he was an Animagus of an animal with paws, but because of his great big hound dog Fang, dead. 

My heart lurches at the thought of Remus. I push it away.

My stomach drops at the thought of our child, never born, and I rub a hand over my empty womb. 

I take in what I can of the men pushing me to move faster, into the house. Before I make it through the door I take in the address, 492, easy enough to remember, although I don’t know what for. I look up at the shortest of the three, he has a scar above his lip and his skin is pale, his eyes are a shade of blue, he looks hard. He has a black baseball cap on with a team logo I don’t recognize, it’s a muggle sport. He catches me looking up at him and shoves my head down, and keeps his hand atop my head, forcing my eyes to the worn and dirty dark brown wooden floors.

We pass through the house and my arms are throbbing at their hard hands and firm grips. I feel like a cow being led to the slaughter. And for a second I feel fear wash over me, this is the end isn’t it? Are they leading me to my death? Behind the next door will I be welcomed by a snake-like face, and a green burst of light?

Another door is opened, and I am outside again, passing through a small lawn, dead grass, and a graveyard of children’s toys, a swing set broken down and an above ground pool still half full of green mossy water and the stench of years rot.

We exit a chain length fence and cross through an overgrown field. Waiting on the dark abandoned street is yet another van. How many more vans would I endure? How many more stops and houses and rough shoves and growls of commands would I encounter before I made it…home? No, not home. Never home again. 

Before I was done running. Before I could rest my head and sleep more than an hour. Before I could eat when I was hungry and piss before my bladder was throbbing, about to burst.

Who was I kidding, all I had left to do was run.

As the biggest of the three pushed me into the van, he said, “Good luck, freak.” And he slammed the door behind me. I have never felt a more backhanded good luck in my life. But his taunt taught me something, I was amongst muggles. These were not magic folk. That explains the guns at their hips. 

But if I was a freak why help? I could only guess the reason. This was a job they had, to get me somewhere safe, although I have no idea who was paying these men off, everyone I know is dead, or captured or missing, aka, dead. Or, maybe, he had lost someone to the magic war? Maybe he is a squib? I don’t know, and I realize I’m over-analyzing everything. It’s what I’m trained to do, but I want to make it stop

We drive for what seems like hours. I consider writing down the details of the house and the guards and the eerie back yard that led to the empty road. But I don’t. I’m tired. I lay down on the hard metal floorboard of the van and curl my body into a ball, I am reminded of the baby that slept in this same position nearly a year ago, in my belly, now gone. Would I soon be gone too? I wouldn’t mind.

Oh God, I know this must be the end. I officially believe I would be better off dead.

\--

I awake, my body stiff, how long had I slept?

I can feel the van start to slow down and then stop, make a turn and pick up again. Then stop, make another turn and dive for a good fifteen minutes. We are on the streets now. And it's daytime. I can hear other cars. I can hear a siren pass and a car honk. At one of the stops, there are people talking on a street corner. My heard begins to pound and I grab for my wand. It is a bad habit. The wand is a phantom. 

We make several more stops and turns before we pull off onto gravel or dirt and drive a straight path for what seems like an hour before the van stops. I grab my bag and prepare myself to be pulled out of the van in a hurry. Constant vigilance, Moody would say, and now he too is on the long list of the deceased.

The door opens and the sun hits my eyes, its harsh, I haven’t seen daylight in over a week. I try to make out anything in front of me, but the light sensitivity has the sun whiting out everything past the middle of the van. So, I sit back as far as I can, hoping I can wait it out until my eyes regain focus.

I can hear voices, a mumble, I can’t make anything out. Then I see two figures walk towards the van door.

A women’s voice comes first, “It’s ok love, you are safe now. I am Beth Harvey, American based witch, I promise you, you are in good hands. You are in the United States. Please, come forward.”

What have I got to lose? I stumble forward, always was clumsy, and shield my eyes.

A man steps forward and I recoil into the van, “Here, take these, I can only imagine how harsh the sun must be after weeks of night operations.” 

I climb forward and can make out the sunglasses in his hand. I reach for them and he walks closer and hands them to me, then as if reading my mind, steps back, to give me space.

“I’m Luther Maxwell, I work for the magical embassy here, and someone must have really thought you worth it, because it was not easy getting you out of there.” The man said.

I put the glasses on and step out of the van slowly. I close my eyes and open slowly once my feet are steady on the gravel. When I open, I see Luther, he is a large male, dark skin, his calm smile should help, but I don’t trust anyone. Next to him is Beth, a small redhead, she does not wear a smile, only a face of concern. 

I look around me at the setting, nothing. Literally nothing. This is the definition of the middle of fucking nowhere.

“Where am I?” I ask. My voice all but a peep. My throat is dry, and exhaustion has robbed me of my voice.

“Tonks, we can’t tell you, I’m Sorry…”

“Don’t—Don’t call me that. That name is dead. That is what my family and friends called me. And they are gone.” I snap. 

“Sorry,” Luther continues, “as I was saying, all information has to be withheld. If you choose to not stay that is your right, but know this, this safe house is one of the most highly protected and we think you can carry out a pretty normal, happy life here until things change.”

“Forgive me if I’m being rude, but what house exactly are we talking about? Do I have another van trip, with men who push me around and call me a freak? I’m tired and honestly, I don’t know how much more I can take.”

The woman Beth stepped forward, “Nymphadora, the house is here, in front of us. It has charms surrounding it. You won’t be able to see it until you agree to sign off on staying here and obeying all concealment agreements.”

“Let’s see it then, the concealment agreement, I’m ready,” I say.

Luther steps forward and hands me a stack of papers, stapled together. I flip to the last page and hold out my hand for a quill, I am in return handed a ballpoint pen.

“Nymphadora, you should read it through. This might not be what you want. You might not care for some of the agreements, and you should most definitely be familiar with the rules of the house.” Beth said, discouraging me from signing too soon.

“Is there food, a bath, a bed, and sunlight?” I ask.

“Yes, but there’s also—”

I cut her off, “That’s all I care about,” I say as I sign the agreement, “Because Beth, I have nothing to live for. So, I just need a place to rot until we all die, or this war finally ends. Now, can we get inside so I can bathe and eat?”

Beth pulls a wand from her jacket and my heart pounds; I want to pounce on her and steal it. I want to beg her to give it to me, let me touch it, let me cast a simple spell, let me feel magic. Instead, I stand still as she waves the wand and my heart stirs like crazy. 

A haze starts to form and slowly I see the house revealed. An old barn style home, big front porch with a swing. The paint was chipping, and the screen door has a rip. It was run down, lived in and it looked like the posters of the Western-style films they would sometimes play at the old theater in Surrey. 

Luther and Beth walked ahead of me and when I didn’t move, Beth reached back and held out a hand beckoning me to come. Worry lined her face. I felt uneasy. But I had nowhere else to go. If I ran, I would die trying to find my way, and I had no idea where I was so apparition was out. And who would I be running from? These people had rescued me and devoted hours and tedious plans to get me here. 

I followed. Always leave a few steps behind, my bag clenched under my arm, and Luther’s sunglasses still on my face.

Luther got to the door first and opened it. Beth waved her wand and the haze fell upon us, surrounding us, only this time, I could see out, but it was apparent no one could see in. 

We entered the house and I was pleasantly surprised by the number of books and furniture and art hanging on the walls. Music was playing from down the hall and it was unfamiliar. I sucked in a deep breath. This was too good to be true.

“How do you like it?” Luther asked.

“It’s better than the hideouts I’ve been scouring to find in London,” I say, unable to be excited about it or anything for that matter, unable to show how grateful I was.

“You do have a housemate; would you like us to introduce you to him before we go?”

“No, I prefer to just let things unfold on their own. Mind my business. Lay low.” I say, looking once again down the hall to the foreign music I hear.

“Understandable. It will just be you and one other, a male, at the moment, But given the severity of the war these days, you could get someone new any day.”

I nod.

“Your room is the first on the right.” Luther pointed.

I nod.

“Do you have any questions before we leave, we have another arrangement we have to get to before sundown,” Beth asked.

“Can I get a new wand?” I asked, looking at the pocket on Beth’s jacket where I knew she had put hers. Her hand shot up to it, as if protecting it.

“No, I’m sorry, all wand makers are in hiding, to protect the future. If they all end up like Ollivander, what will the next generation do for wands? Who will train the next wand makers? So, the ministry decided to put them in hiding.”

“Makes sense, although, we are losing the battle here.”

“I know you are defeated Nymphadora. I have read all the stories,” her eyes shot to my stomach, “I know what you have been through, you lose and the battles you have fought. So, I know it is easier said than done, but rest, recover and we will prevail! Goodwill prevail!” Beth said, and crossed to me and took me into an embrace.

I stood still against her hug, her act of affection. 

“We must be going Beth,” Luther said, and she let me go. 

“We will try to return in a month, to make sure you are ok. Stay strong.” She said, and I nodded. And then they were gone.

I stood in the living room alone with only the faint hum of what I could only imagine was a sad song playing in the distance.

I heard the door open and a steady hum a man singing along to the music that poured from the room, then it stopped altogether, and I reached for my phantom wand. Realizing it wasn’t there, still wasn’t there, I put up my fist in a fighting pose. The voices in my head battled, “This is fine Dora, this is fine, this place is safe,” then, “Fuck that, nothing is safe, the only thing safe is death.”

I felt myself breathing hard, and my stance tighten, my feet grip into the carpet and the humming got closer, the rest of the sound around me seemed to muffle, but the humming became clearer. I felt myself blinking incessantly, trying to steady my gaze, trying to prepare myself for the worst.

And then it came. The worst.

Standing in front of me was a man I hated. A man I feared. A man I thought dead or at the right hand of the dark lord. A man that had a hand in the death of every person I loved. I could feel the color drain from me and my arms slack in shock.

Have you ever been asked, “How do you think you would respond if given the chance to avenge the ones you loved?” Because this is not what I imagined I would do.

I did not scream or race at him to fight. I didn’t throw things or cry. I just stood there. And my soul detached from my body and started to float above me. It was like I was outside of myself looking at myself doing nothing. As if I was watching myself tremble and cower.

A mixture of shock and exhaustion robbed me of my glory moment.

He took a slow step forward.

I took two steps back.

He brought his hand to his mouth, and I jumped, only to notice he was putting something in his mouth.

He held out his hand and I saw different colored candy spread across his palm, “Jellybean?” he asked, unphased by my being there. Unphased by my apparent shock at the sight of him or the look of disgust that drew out over my face at the thought of eating anything from his long pale hands, hands that killed so many innocents. 

I just stood there. 

He shrugged at my obvious refusal to partake of his candy.

“You…” I stumbled over my words, trying to get a simple sentence out, “you are a murderer!”

“I could say the same thing about you. Could I not?”

I shudder at his voice. Taunting me. Accusing me.

I feel a shock crash into me, as if my soul came charging back into my body. I turn and fling the front door open and what started as a fast walk turns into a sprint, into the great and wide nothing. Desert surrounding the house at every angle. I don’t care, I run. As fast as I can away from this monster.

Right when I hit my full speed I approach where the van had been parked earlier at my arrival and I smash into a hard, clear, barrier, I am thrown back at such impact I land on my ass and my tail bone screams in pain. I stand up again and back up, and charge at the barrier again and again before beginning to bang my fist. 

“Let me out of here. Let me the fuck out of here. Fuuuuuuck. Let me out now damn it!!!” I scream, over and over, cursing and slamming my fist again and again into a wall that isn’t there. 

I pound and pound, and I feel my voice growing horse and crack, I can’t help it. I cry. I scream cry. And I kick. This can’t be it. This can’t be my final stop. Where is the next van? Where are the rough hands and black ball caps? Give me back abandoned houses and long bumpy rides with an empty stomach and the scent of my own piss in the corner of a cold trunk. Give me anything but this. This cannot be my final place.

Give me anything else.

Give me death.

I would rather die a thousand deaths than this.

Please, give me death. 

Give me anything else but Snape.

Severus

I stand at the front door of the house, looking out through the screen. I watch as she slams her body into the barrier, the barrier _she_ signed off on. I watched as her knuckles begin to bloody. Then I watch as they go past the point of bloody, she was going to break every damn finger if she kept this shit up. Then I watch as she throws her body at the barrier, as she cries until her voice fades. I watch as she kicks and winces at the pain in her toes. I watch as she sinks to her knees and presses her forehead to the barrier, eyes closed, tears and snot and spit and blood covering her face and clothing. Then I watch as she runs out of every ounce of fight she has left in her. As she lowers her body to the dusty gravel of the road, and curls into a ball. Wrapping her arms around legs, tucking her head into herself. I watch as she loses the last shred of energy she had left. I watch as she falls asleep.

And then, I turn around and leave her there. I leave her to sleep, outside, alone, broken, and bloodied. Because there is not a damn thing, I can say to her that will help -- that will change her mind about me.

Dora

_Entry 57_

_I woke up in the dark, on the gravel drive of this “Safehouse”. My hands are swollen and bloodied. My throat raw. My toe possibly broken. My body sore and tired. I’m so damn tired._

_I found out my “roommate” is Severus Snape today. So, I did the only logical thing there was to do-- beat the ever-living shit out of the barrier protecting the safe house until I had no fight left in me._

_Which is why I woke up on the gravel of this “Safehouse”._

_How can he be in protected living? HOW?_

_Did he not serve at the Dark Lords hand for years?_

_Did he not murder Dumbledore?_

_Did he not allow death eaters into Hogwarts?_

_His hands are COVERED with the blood of my kind._

_How does he continue to pull the wool over everyone's eyes?_

_The only reasonable explanation in my opinion is this; he’s the best damn liar to walk the earth. But he will not fool me. I still am not even sure this is a safe house. Right now, it feels a lot like some kind of sick joke._

_I must cut this entry short. I fear I have a few broken fingers and writing is proving to be hard._

_Just know this, I am in a safe house with Severus Snape. I was brought here by a witch named Beth; wand carrier. And a man, Luther, no confirmation of magical power thus far._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I am sharing sanctuary with the enemy._

I put my journal back into my bag and tuck it under my pillow. Hiding things and being sneaky are a way of life now. And I can't help but laugh, a crazed laugh, as I realize hiding the bag under a pillow won’t do shit. 

My head is spinning. This is all crazy brain. I need food.

I open my door as quietly as I can and peek my head out. Looking both ways for signs of my apparent “roommate”. I close my eyes for a second and try to home in on any sound, try and find out where he might be, but I remind myself he is a snake, so I hear and see nothing. I hope he died in his sleep. Choked on a jellybean.

I find my way to the kitchen, it's tidy, but old and worn. The walls are covered in farm style wallpaper with faded roosters and barns covering it, it's peeling at the door frames and around the window. There is a little stove that looks old and I can’t help but wonder if it even works. There is a small sink under the kitchen window, and minimal counter space, along with a small refrigerator and a little wooden table and chairs, also worn, the wood chipped and etched from years of use. I open the cabinets in search of something quick and see foreign brands of food. Cereal that looks too brightly colored, cans of soups, beans, veggies, and fruits. There are boxes of crackers and cookies. I grab a box of cheese-flavored, square crackers and as I shove my hand into the box, I scrape the sides of my battered knuckles and shriek in pain. 

“You need to ice that.” 

I jump at the sound of a voice that has haunted my dreams and memories for years and drop the box. I back up against the counter until I can’t back up any further, my feet crunching the orange bits of crackers that spilled onto the black and white tile floor. 

I just stare at him. Holding my hand in pain. Hoping he just goes away.

He doesn't. 

Instead, he walks to the icebox and pulls out a plastic tray and bangs it on the counter. Then he opens the bread bag and dumps the last couple slices of bread out. He dumps the cubes of ice from the tray into the bread bag and holds it out to me and I just stare. Refusing to take help from him. 

No Amount of makeshift ice packs will make me believe he deserves to be here. Safe. Alive. 

“Take it.” he says in a gruff, “There won’t be anyone here for another month to check on us, and the chances of a healer are slim.”

“I’d rather it never heals than take help from you.” I spit out. 

“Fine. Move out of the way, I would like to make a sandwich,” he said and grabbed the last slices of bread that were now on the counter where he dumped them. I didn’t move. 

He went to the fridge and pulled out lunch meats and cheeses and fresh lettuce and the reddest, ripest tomato I had seen in years. My stomach betrayed me a let out the loudest, longest grumble of my life at the sight of the fresh food. His head snapped to me and he looked me up and down. Then went about his sandwich making. 

I wanted one. A sandwich. I wanted to ask for one. 

Instead, I bent down to scoop the smashed crackers up with my broken hands.

“Leave it,” he said, not looking at me, his gaze set on the cutting board where he sliced the tomatoes. 

“I can clean up after myself.”

“I said leave it,” he said as he sat down the knife he was using, “and please do me so much as to stop being an immature, ungrateful brat. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. Now put the ice pack on your ridiculous injuries and sit down to eat this sandwich. You look like shit and you smell like shit. So, eat the food and then do us both a favor and go bathe yourself.”

“Oh, so you know how I got these injuries?” I ask, incredulously.

He doesn’t respond, instead he walks the sandwich to the table and sits it down, putting the bread bag ice pack next to it.

“Sit. Down,” he says.

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks, dirty wet pups are not to my liking.”

“Dirty wet pup? Is that what I am? Like Sirius? Like...Like Remus? Like my _child_ was to be? How did you get here? What a telling story you must have told to convince whoever the hell it was that you were worth saving.” 

“Alas, I am here, the same as you.” he said, and gestured to the seat, “Now eat the food. I don’t want to have to deal with the stench of your body if you die. And from the looks of it, you are three ticks from malnourished.”

I turned around and opened the cabinet again, grabbed a box of dry cereal, slammed the counter shut, and bit the inside of my mouth as I dove my broken hand into the box and pulled out a handful of dried marshmallows and stuffed my mouth full. And I chewed the best I could despite the overwhelming drying in my mouth all while staring

him dead in the eyes.

“I will never eat the food you prepare.”

Severus

The insufferable brat! She couldn't see a kind gesture if it hit her in the face, and it had, when she ran full speed into the barrier that keeps her safe, it had when she was rescued, and it had, when I went as far as to make her an ice pack and food. And it's not that I expect her to trust me or like me, but as I stand at the kitchen table and watch her knuckle wounds start to bleed as she so stubbornly shoves her hands into a box of Lucky Charms I realize I may be in for a long, miserable life. 

But I’ve always been jaded.

So, I play her game.

I sit down at the table in the chair facing her and slide the fresh sandwich in front of me, and as I look her dead in her starved eyes, I take the biggest bite I can muster and chew slowly, letting my lips lift in a grin at her. 

“Delicious,” I say, as I lick a bit of Dijon from my pinky finger and that is the nail in the coffin. She storms out of the kitchen slamming the box of cereal on the counter.

Dora

_Entry 58_

_I am clean! And I’m allowing myself a moment to rejoice and feel an inkling of joy in this moment. My nails are free of dirt under them, and my hair smells of cheap apple shampoo. I shaved. I SHAVED! Despite the pain it took to hold the razor I shaved damn it! And for what it’s worth, the bed is nice. But it’s not just a bed, it’s a nice bed. The floral comforter is soft and smells like fresh linen, and the sheets are cool and crisp._

_If it weren't for Snape being here, I would consider this place comforting. But he IS here. So, there is a bitter taste in the back of my mouth and my stomach is full of acid._

_He made me an ice pack for my hand tonight after I woke on the gravel. He saw what happened at the barrier._

_He watched me beat my fist into mush trying to escape him._

_And while I could consider the ice pack a nice gesture, the fact that he saw me beating the barrier and didn't try to stop me made it seem even more cruel, like he was rubbing it in that I'm stuck here. Like he was rubbing it in that he saw me act a fool, cry and ultimately hurt myself. He is the definitive kind of terrible. He is a liar and a con and I don’t trust him, but I WILL find out who helped him._

_He made me a sandwich as well. And while I could consider that a nice gesture, when I refused it, out of pride and hate, he proceeded take a bite of the sandwich, and smile at me while he did so. That too made it all seem crueler. He had to have known I would NEVER accept food prepared by his murderous hands, yet he made it, and when I declined, he taunted me with it._

_So, was any of it kind at all? It all seemed to be so calculated coming from him. It seemed like it gave him leverage to prove something to me. But one thing I know for certain, it did not help him in any way to convince me that he is now a “good guy”._

_That is all I can bare to write tonight._

_My hand is throbbing, and although it felt good to wash it and bandage it with some things I found in a first aid kit under my bathroom sink, I do wish I had the ice pack, maybe I will sneak into the kitchen and make myself one._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I will find out who rescued Severus Snape._

Severus

I hear her door click open. It’s three AM. She probably thinks I’m sleeping, and the coast is clear. She probably thinks I rest easy now that I am safe. She probably assumes that I justify what I’ve done. That I feel no remorse, like the monster I’ve been painted. Like the monster I am. 

But I don’t.

I don’t rest easy. I don’t justify what I’ve done. And the remorse is—its unbearable.

I can hear her creeping across the living room and go into the kitchen, I stand and open my door to better hear what she is doing. 

The ice box opens, and I hear the crack of the tray. Good thing I refilled it with water to freeze up since the brat wouldn’t take the ice pack, I had made her. And then I hear the refrigerator open, and the clanking of things being moved about. She looked starving, skin and bones, like I did when I got here. 

I was waiting to hear three things really. One, her get ice on that damn hand. Two, her to make herself some damn food, and three…

“Ugh, ASSHOLE!” I hear her say from the kitchen, that was three. I was waiting for her to notice the sandwich on the table with only one bite missing. 

That should teach the ungrateful little brat a lesson. When someone does something kind for you take the gesture. She doesn’t have to like me, hell, she could even continue to hate me with her every being like she so clearly does, but she can NOT and will NOT waste our God Damn FOOD! Especially my tomatoes.

Dora

“Ugh, ASSHOLE!”

He did this intentionally. He is so malicious. He knew, _knew,_ I would see that sandwich, uneaten, and he knew it would infuriate me. This isn’t going to work. I must get better. I must eat and rest and damn it, let my hand heal and get out of here. I just can’t live under the same roof as this man.

And the worst part, about the sandwich, I still want to eat it, knowing it’s been sitting out for hours. Knowing he took a bit of it. My stomach growls. My hands are shaky. My vision is blurry.

I am exhausted and starving and its time. To let go of my pride. And take care of myself. If for nothing else. To get my strength back so I can leave. Find a wand. And get back in the fight.

To hell with it, I pick up the sandwich and take a bite. Chewing slowly. Trying to detect any signs of poison or maybe even spit. But once the flavor of meat and cheese and tomato hit my tongue, I become a wild animal. I take bite after bite of the already room temperature sandwich. I keep eating as I walk to the fridge and get the half drank bottle of apple juice and chug it all down, mixed with my mouth full of food. 

By the time I’m finished I already feel full and exhaustion hits. I grab the ice bag I made myself and head to my room, when I turn the corner from the kitchen, I hear his door shut. He was listening. Creep. I hope he’s satisfied. I hope he knows that the second my strength is up I’m out of here. And I hope he rots alone.

I lock the door behind me and crawl into my bed, I turn off the bedside light and place the ice pack on top of my pounding hand and I don’t think I take three solid breathes before I fall asleep.

Severus

She hasn’t been out of her room for two days now. She hasn’t made a peep since her first day. I’ve heard the toilet flush and the water to the sink turn on. But nothing outside of that. There is a part of me that thinks she is just being a brat, locking herself away as long as she can, in protest to living here with me, like it will do anything. And there is a part of me that fears she is not well. If she doesn’t come out and eat by tomorrow, I will knock on her door, and demand she eat.

The days feel longer since Nyphadora got here. I had grown so used to the silence, just my mind to keep me company. The reoccurring thoughts of my past. During the day I build things or read and listen to music. The house has a crate of old CD’s and a stereo system set up in my room. Muggle music. I like it.

The nights I toss and turn. Waking up in a panic, covered with sweat. All of my great loves stand over me. I have failed them all. And they too, have failed me. Sometimes I sit on the old porch and try to remember the last time I had my own identity. But I don’t think my memory goes back that far.

I lost myself first, to a woman. Who I loved but I could never have, because of another man.

I lost myself second, to the other man. Who I worshiped but I could never respect, for taking her life.

I lost myself third, to the headmaster. Who I respected but I could never forgive, for asking me to take his.

So, no matter how loud I play the music, I see the faces of those who died in front of me, or for me or because of me. Those I didn’t help, for the cause, and where had that cause gotten us? Absolutely fucking nowhere. I let people die. And in return, nothing. One of my loves is still dead, her family gone too. One of my loves is still at large, killing off bloodline after bloodline. And of my loves one is still haunting me, as I watch him fall, from the tower, over and over after begging me, “Severus, please.”

And I’m here. Safe. 

I wish she would ask why. Not because I need her to know I’m not the monster she thinks I am, because I am a monster. That I am certain. But because it’s so heavy. Under all the lies. Under all the information. Under all the deception. Years of devil’s advocate. Years of double agent. Years of being cruel. Years of playing a role. It’s all so god damn heavy. I wish she would ask, because no one has. I wish she would ask so I could just lighten my load. So, I could say to someone, “I killed Lilly potter!!! I did! And I killed Dumbledore, it’s true. And I couldn’t kill Voldermort, and neither could Harry, but fuck, the death I mourn the most is the death is of myself. Because I never even got a chance to know myself, before I was already the monster you see me as.”

It’s just so heavy.

And with her here, I just want to give some of this load away.

And that, is another reason, I know I am a monster.

Dora

I wake up to banging on my door. Not a light knock. Banging.

I also wake up to banging in my head. Ouch. How long had I been in and out of sleep? 

“Open up the door or I break it down.” Came the voice from the other side.

“Go away.” I say, my voice all but a rasp.

“I will knock down this door. Open up and come feed yourself. I will go to my room and let you be alone, but I will not stop banging until you get your pathetic ass out of bed.”

“Go away first. I don’t want to see you.”

“You are so damn stubborn.” He says.

“Go away.” I shout. Its mean. And sad. My voice doesn’t even sound like mine own. 

I hear him huff and storm off, the door to his room down the hall opens and slams shut, shaking the windows and the pictures on my walls. I get out of bed and my knees are weak and my eyes go blurry at my hunger, at standing up to fast. I know he is right, and I need to eat, and I’m grateful he offered to let me do it alone, because the sight of him makes me sick.

I make my way to the kitchen and can tell its mid-day. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep, and this puts me in a panic, I hate that I was so careless, that I let myself sleep so long. 

I open the fridge and pull out some jam and I spread it on crackers from the cabinets. There are a few apples in a bowl, and I eat one of those too without washing it, it’s so crisp and a bit sour, its perfect. I roll slices of cheese and eat them like a toddler. Then I grab the box of the marshmallow cereal and a huge cup of milk and head to my room. 

I decide to pour the cereal into the cup of milk and drink the cereal. It’s so sweet, but so good. Much better in milk. Milk, God how long had it been since I drank cold milk? I reach under the pillow next to the one I had been sleeping on and pull out my journal, and a picture falls out of it. Remus. He turns his head to see my camera and then holds his hand out to cover his face. He was so handsome. And so shy. My heart breaks. I’m lonely. 

_Entry 58_

_I don’t know how many days I’ve slept away. I only know it was enough to worry Snape. A worried Snape? Seems like an oxymoron._

_I don’t think my fingers were broken after all. The swelling has gone down and I can grip my quill. I was a fool to act like that. And now that I’m well rested, I regret it and I know I must be smarter and get my emotions in order here._

_The question keeps running through my head, over and over and over. How is he here? Who brought him? And what did he say to convince them?_

_Dumbledore was not a stupid man, and he was murdered by Snape whilst he trusted him whole heartedly. What am I missing? What pieces to the puzzle fell off the table and were swept away leaving blank places in the picture? There must be explanation._

_And I don’t want there to be! It would only confuse my hatred. And damnit, sometimes I feel like that’s the only emotion I have left keeping me glued to this speck of earth._

_I should give him a chance to talk. Demand answers._

_But not yet. Let me hang on to my hate a little longer. I’m not ready to hear his story. And worse than that, I’m not ready to believe him._

_Because what if I do? What if everything he tells me is validated? Then what? We are friends? We bake cookies together in our old farmhouse and what? That’s my life now?_

_NO!  
I just want to curl up in a ball and dream about you Remus. _

_Can I do that baby?_

_Talk to me._

_Tell me that its ok to hang on to every thought of you and just curl up here on this soft quilt and die, thinking of running my fingers along the scars on your back. The ones you first hid from me. The ones you first jumped at when I lazily ran my fingers across them. I just want to close my eyes and see your face, that you covered in photos. I want you to argue with me again, over everything. You were always such a prude._

_I was always too funny for you._

_You needed that though._

_Now, I’m not funny at all. But I would be for you. If I could have you one more day. I would be so funny Remus baby. I would be so funny._

_Can’t I just lose myself a million times in these memories of you?_

_Let me Remus! Tell me its ok. Tell me its ok to just live off memories and die in daydreams._

_I’m so lonely._

_I don’t want Snape to be what cures that loneliness._

_Remus, I won’t leave you behind in my safety._

_Tell me its ok to hang on. Give me a sign._

_I’m so lonely._

_I already said that. But, I’m so damn lonely and so afraid that I will forget._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I am. So. Damn. Alone._

I shut the journal and tuck the picture back in. 

I got no sign.

Nothing.

Because he is light years away now, isn’t he? 

Severus

She ate.

From the looks of it she drank half a gallon of milk too. I don’t care. I’m just happy she ate, maybe even relieved. 

I remember when I got here months ago now. I had a hard time eating too. Survivor’s guilt. But I knew I could do this; I knew I was going to overcome it all when I got my appetite back. I think a lot can be determined by what you can eat. And she may be eating cheese and crackers now, but I can only hope in time she will make something hot, even if it’s a meal from a box. And if I’m lucky, maybe she will one day share a meal with me. A meal with a meat, a veggie and a carb. 

I don’t see that day happening any time soon. And maybe its ninety percent selfish gain. But the other ten percent is me, just wanting her to be ok. I just want her to be ok. And I don’t know why. But I do. I just don’t think I can handle any more tragedy. No, no, I don’t think I _deserve_ any more tragedy.

I chose a lot of what I brought on. I accept that. I own that. But I’m done. I’m done just sitting back and accepting my fate from other people. So yeah, maybe its ninety percent selfish gain and ten percent me caring for her. But shit, that was better than I could have offered anyone a year ago. And I think that might be who I am. 

I hear her door open, and I look behind me and I can see her through the screen door. I stay seated on the porch and turn to look out at the nights sky. The moon is almost full, and I can’t help but wonder if that will make her think of Remus, like it does me. 

Years of brewing him Wolfsbane potion. Remus Lupin. We played our roles well. Hell, sometimes we played them so well I think we really believed we hated each other. But I mourn his loss. That too with ninety percent selfish gain, because while the ten percent makes me sad, I lost a friend, and Tonks lost a husband, the ninety percent only mourns the loss of my secrets, my truths, my alibi, they all died with him too. Because other then I, Dumbledore and Harry, Remus was the last one who knew the real story. He was the last one who knew of my innocence, if you could call it that.

“I’m out here on the porch, if you want to avoid me.” I shout, without looking back, wishing I had a pack of cigarettes, and mentally moving them up on my list of stuff I’m going to try and get on the next supply run. 

Only I hear the floorboards creek as if she is coming closer. I turn my head and to my utter shock, she is standing at the screen. I can tell even in the dark that she has been crying, and I hate that it makes my stomach twist.

I look back out to the night sky, “Well, go on, come out here and ask me what you have to ask.”

“When will they be back? How long between visits?” she asks, which was not was I was getting at, but at least she was talking to me and not screaming or crying or using the word fuck.

“Don’t know.” Is all I give her.

She remains silent. And stays put.

“I can go back inside and leave you alone if you want some fresh air.” I say and start to stand, cut off by her words.

“No. Stay,” she says, and my heart races, no one has asked me to stay willing in a life time and I know it’s not because she wants me with her, I’m sure I’ll find out why soon enough, but damn, I’ll take it, “we need to talk.” She finishes.

“I agree.” I say, and I stay looking forward. Allowing her to approach at her own convenience, remembering what a monster I am to her.

After a few seconds and enough time to make my heart quicken at the idea of another investigation, another time recounting the acts I carried out, another time admitting to my wrongs, another time reliving the hell I called a life for years, I heard the floor squeak and then the screen door open and fall back shut, and she was leaning against the post of the porch, looking out at the night sky, most likely looking at the moon that would be full tomorrow, causing so many to take the shape of wild, murderous animals, like it did many times to Remus.

She looked down at me after several minutes passed, and I could hear her release a shaky breath, she was nervous, I wondered if she knew I was nervous too? I hope not.

“How are you here?” she asked, shakily, I can tell she is trying to keep herself composed. 

“Someone gave me a chance to talk and they believed me.”

“Must be one hell of a story.” She said.

“I’m sure it is to anyone who will listen, but for me, I honestly don’t care much for it. I lived it.”

“Are you a good guy?” she asked. And this took me by surprise. I know Nymphadora well enough to know she is a damn good auror, and this question seemed so juvenile.

“No.”

“Then how can I trust you?”

“I suppose that’s up to you.” I say.

“Are you a bad guy.” She asks, this time it doesn’t catch me off guard.

“No. Not anymore.” I say, and I believe myself, even if she doesn’t. 

We sit in silence for a while. The sound of nowhere heavy on this place, crickets and beetles and the rustling of the few trees. I usually enjoy this sort of silence, but not right now, right now it feels uncomfortable. 

She pushes off the porch post and heads for the screen, and I catch her before she goes inside, “Nymphadora, there is a plate of food on the stove for you. _Real_ food.” I say.

“I’m not hungry.” Is all I get from her, and then she is gone, back to her room. And I try to get my head back to the place where this porch is my comfort and the sounds of nothing make me feel light, but I can’t shake our conversation, the few words we exchanged. So, I too get up and head to my room. 

As I pass her door I can hear her crying, so I walk faster, because even though she doesn’t know I can hear her, I feel like I’m invading a private moment, and I can’t give her much, but I can give her space, so that’s what I do.

Dora

_Entry 59_

_I spoke briefly with Snape tonight. And he was evasive. But so where my questions. I think he would have let me pry and prod at him. I think he wanted me too. I think he is lonely. I think maybe he always has been, his entire life._

_I can’t help but to look back at what I know, or think I know about this man._

_I know he lost the love of his life to Voldermort._

_I know he then turned to Dumbledore to seek vengeance and redemption._

_I know he then killed Dumbledore revealing his loyalty to the Dark Lord._

_But that doesn’t make sense. Why go back to Voldermort? Why kill the one man that could protect you? It really doesn’t add up. But no matter how I look at it he still KILLED Dumbledore! How can he explain that?_

_I regret not asking more tonight._

_Getting outside, next to him was the hardest part._

_He seems, different._

_He seems, remorseful._

_But that’s not enough to make me forget and forgive. I have seen too many murderers and dark wizards put on their remorseful mask in front of a judge and the second the guilty verdict is read, it vanishes._

_Smoke and mirrors._

_Is that what Snape is?_

_I don’t think so. And as I write that I hate it. And I want to scribble it out. But, I think if I’m not going to trust him, I need to trust the process, until I can make a better assessment of him._

_That’s what Moody taught me. “Don’t trust the man at hand, trust the mind that interrogates him. Then decide.” That always stuck with me._

_Trust myself, my brain, my instincts, my heart even._

_And I feel like I need to listen._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I think Severus Snape has many skeletons in his closet that need to be freed._

_\--_

Days pass and Severus and I dance around one another, and amidst the underlying animosity and awkwardness, it starts to feel like a fine dance, the turns we make to avoid each other have started to seem like a graceful pirouette. When we bump into each other and stride the other direction, a passe. When he tiptoes his way across the hardwood floor, because I’m resting on the couch, en dehors. When I lock myself in my room, because I can’t face him, en dendans. 

The theme music from the nutcracker has started to play over and over in my mind incessantly. And I am starting to choreograph my avoidance of him to the song in my head. It's driving me crazy. This dance. This song. I need to speak to him. 

My mother wanted me to be a ballerina when I was younger. But much to her dismay we only discovered through dance, that I was in fact, born with two left feet, the inability to not spill a drink at dinner and the grace of a Billy goat. So, when I said I wanted to be an Auror her first response was, “Dora, you know you are too clumsy for that job. The bad guys will hear you from a mile away.” And, I almost let that detour me. However, I knew I had something else, I had brains, and wit, and cunning, and fearlessness on my side. 

Now, I don’t know what of that I have left, as the nutcracker song spins on a loop in my head, I think the only thing I have now is crazy.

I pack away my journal and put it on my bedside table and realize it’s the first time I don’t hide it and it makes my heart race, I feel nervous to let myself get attached to anything, including this place, but I leave it on the table, and take it a step further. I grab my bag of personal things, so few, so sparse, the little pile of my livelihood reminds me of how few of my kind are left, and I feel guilt rush over me. 

I am so lucky. 

I should be out there doing more.

What could I even do?

Que the nutcracker song.

I have to get out of this room.

I open my door and peek out, the house seems ecarte, wide open. But I hear music coming from Snape’s room. And it starts to drown out the annoying ballet soundtrack I’ve been imprisoned too for the last several days. It sounds…nice. He is always listening to music. I wonder if he is drowning out a nutcracker song of his own. I think that’s really all we have left to do, drown it all out. I tiptoe down the hall to his room, in a sort of a petit battement, and then ever so carefully, which for me is very very carefully, place my ear to his door. 

The song is slow and melodic and sad? The man’s voice is deep and I can hear Severus humming along and sometimes even singing a few words. I blush. Hearing him sing seems far too personal. This is wrong. I am definitely crossing lines here, inappropriate lines. I haven’t spoken to him in days, and now I’m standing with my ear to his door stealing his escape. Listening to his music. Drowning out my crazy. 

But I don’t leave.

Instead, I slowly sink to the ground and press my back to his door. I am thankful for how loud the music is. Because as slowly as I do this, I can only imagine in my clumsiness I look like a baby horse trying to sit for the first time.

I close my eyes and let his distraction become my own. And I feel a rush come over me. This all feels so intimate. And I hate that. I want to get up. I should not be listening at his door. But I catch a lyric as he sings it out, louder, passionately;

Don’t make me read your mind,

You should know me better than that.

It takes me too much time,

You should know me better than that.

You’re not that much like me,

You should know me better than that.

We have different enemies,

You should know me better than that.

Severus

I know she is outside my door. She has the grace of a dump truck.

I could bust her in the act. 

But instead, I turn the music up louder. So, she can better hear. The thought crosses my mind that I could invite her in, to listen, with me.

I shoot it down. That’s ridiculous. We are not friends. She hardly makes eye contact with me. We avoid each other like animals in the wild. She is the prey and I a beast. Like when we cross paths, she hurries her steps like a scared animal escaping the jaws of a lion. The way she avoids wherever I am in the house like a small animal hiding under a rock. I see it play over and over in my head as we awkwardly avoid each other, and it has begun to look like an episode of Blue Planet. 

No, I think this works well. Tonks slumped against my door, on the other side, listening. This is how it must be for us. Until she asks me the one question I hate and yet need her to ask.

Will you tell me your truths?

\--

This goes on for nights now. After we spend our days filled with busy body things, I disappear from the house to do my own thing, she reads on the couch, her bare feet propped up on an old pillow with cats crocheted on it, the remnants of purple paint on her toenails. But as the sun starts to go down, and the uneasiness of our situation creeps in with the dark, I make my way to my room and put on the record that reminds me of her, the one she comes the quickest too when I play it, and she sits against my door, to listen, and I know she is there, but I don’t think she knows that I too have taken up sitting with my back pressed to the other side, pressed to hers, only separated by a sheet of wood and chipped paint, and I sing;

I want to start over, I want to be winning.

I wanna hurry home to you.

Put on a slow, dumb show for you and crack you up.

And when I stop singing to steady my heart, I swear I hear her singing too.

Dora

_Entry 60_

_I have a confession. I have been spending my nights with Severus._

_Well, not with him._

_He doesn’t know I’m there._

_But I sit in the hall, next to his bedroom door at night and listen to the music he plays._

_And I feel like I’m disrespecting you, Remus. Because it feels good. I feel good when I’m there._

_He plays this song, and the lyrics talk about being funny and it makes me think of you and how I made you laugh. But it hurts me deeply because it also makes me long to make Severus laugh. And I shouldn’t._

_But I do. Because I have created this alternate universe where on the other side of his bedroom door is an alternate Severus. That never did the horrible things he did. And I enjoy his company, even if it is behind closed doors._

_I’m sorry Remus that I have been a coward. That I haven’t asked him to explain himself._

_At first it was because I was afraid, I would believe him._

_But now, It’s because I like this alternate Severus I’ve created in my mind, the one behind his door that listens to sad music, so much that I’m afraid I won’t believe him._

_And if I don’t believe him, I won’t be able to listen to those sad songs with him and escape._

_Remus, I’m sad we didn’t get to listen to music together, I think we could have enjoyed that. I think it would have been good for your soul. You always carried too much on those shoulders of yours._

_I miss rubbing your shoulders._

_The other day I lay in bed, after a hot bath, and I had the window to my room open and a dry heat blew through and I swear I felt your warm hands, hands that were days away from the full moon, on my naked skin._

_I haven’t been touched in over a year._

_I wish I didn’t miss it._

_Baby, I miss it._

_Remus, tell me its ok to find comfort here. Give me a sign._

_Why won’t you give me a fucking sign?_

_FUCK!!! WHY WERE YOU ALWAYS SO HARD?_

_I’m so mad at you. I’m so mad at you. I'm sooo mad datt you…immmsoooomadddddddddddddddd._

_FUCK YOUUUUUUUUU!_

_Fuck._

_Fuck this._

_I’m so confused. Why did you always confuse me?_

_Baby, I’m so confused._

_I can’t do this, Remus. Fuck._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And fuck all._

Severus

Four fucking nights. FOUR. She has not left her room. She either is not eating again or she has suddenly mastered the stealth of a door mouse. For fucks sake. Here we go again.

I played the damn album for hours and hours the first few nights and she never came. I switched albums for the last two nights. Nothing. 

Beth and Luther will be here any day. And if they don’t bring me cigarettes, I’m leaving this shit hole and going to get my own. 

For as little as I see Dora eat, we are blowing through our food. Maybe I’m stress-eating. What I wouldn’t give for a huge bag of jellybeans tonight and a cigarette and a beer… or a six-pack. 

Fuck.

I head out to the workshop behind the house. I need to bang on things. Clear my head. But so help me if that little brat doesn’t come out of her room tonight, I’ll take my tools into the damn house and take the mother fucking door off the hinges. If she wants to act like a suicidal teenager, I’ll treat her like one.

I start to measure out the wood I’m working with, and then take it to the table saw. I cut. And measure, then nail and sand. I don’t know how long this goes on. I don’t even notice the sweat dripping down my face. The sun is brutal today and we couldn’t buy a breeze if we wanted one. But I stay out in the workshop. Cutting and sanding and measuring and hammering.

Tonight.

She better get her ass out of that room tonight.

I don’t want to be the bad guy here, but I’m about fed up with her shit.

I can feel my shirt clinging to my back, and sweat is dripping from my nose. I pull my shirt over my head and wipe my face and neck with it. Then I pull my hair back low on my neck tying it up to keep it from sticking to my face. I get back to work. 

It’s been over a month, hasn’t it?

We should be getting a delivery soon.

Maybe she will go back with them. She needs to go. This isn’t working out. She is so damn ungrateful. What I went through to get her here. Selfish, entitled, brat. 

I hammer into the wood, chopping, I can feel my hands aching, my back aching, sweat dripping from my elbow, FUCK, its hot.

“Severus!”

I jump out of my skin at my name being shouted at me.

“Fuck, Dora you scared the shit out of me.”

“They’re here.” Is all she says, and I see her eyes trail over my bare skin, and her cheeks flush, mine do too.

“God, you lock yourself up for four days and you just come out here, for the first time and shout my damn name while I’m chopping wood? I thought you were a smart girl? I almost tossed the damn ax at your head!” I say, completely plowing over her last comment that, whoever is here, is here.

“Oh, put a shirt on and clean yourself up. They brought pizza for fucks sake.” She says, and looks me over once more, before she crosses her hands over her chest and quickly walks away, and in my head I hear the man with the Australian accent from Blue Planet narrate her exit, _“And though the Slow Loris looks like a saint, do not be fooled mates, she is a fierce little buggar.”_ And I head to the house.

Dora

“Nymphadora, how has it been?” Beth asks as she plates up pizza for me, and gestures for me to sit. Snape only said a quick hello and stormed off to his room where we heard the shower start to run.

“Well, for starters you can imagine I was blindsided when I realized who my roommate is. Thanks for the heads up on that by the way.” I say as I shove half a slice of pizza in my mouth.

“It was in the contract. We encouraged you to read it.”

“Yeah, well, probably best it happened that way, I wouldn’t have stayed if I had known.” I think back to bashing my fist into the barrier and look down at my hands, completely healed, that’s how long it had been, long enough to heal, and I still hadn’t said more than fifteen words to him.

“How have things been, between the two of you?” she asks lightly.

I think back to the nights by his door and I want to say fine, in my alternate universe. But I hadn’t been to listen for days, I hadn’t eaten in days, so I say how I feel now, in the moment.

“It’s been complete shit. But thanks for the pizza.” I say inhaling the other half of the slice.

Then his voice cuts from behind me and a chill runs down my spine. “Yeah, it’s been complete shit. Look at her, skin and bones, this is the first thing she has eaten in days. Did you tell them that Dora? Did you tell them that I have been on suicide watch all month? Did you tell them about beating your hands to a bloody pulp the first night?” he says, and its all true, and for the first time since I’ve been here, I can sense he is truly mad. And rightfully so. He was right. I had taken It too far the last four days and I knew that. And his tone scared me.

“Is this true Nymphadora?” Beth asks.

I want to tell them all to fuck off. But I don’t. I can feel my face start to quiver. I feel my eyes start to heat. I start to shake, uncontrollably. 

And I cry. In front of Beth. In front of Snape.

“I can’t be here. It’s not fair. So many people have died and I’m safe. And Remus… I just can’t do this.”

Beth comes forward, and crouches in front of me and hands me a hard, cheap paper towel to wipe my eyes.

“Nymphadora, he would want this. He would have wanted you safe. He asked Severus to do this. You have to trust what Severus told you.”

“What? What did you just say?” I ask, taken aback, “What the hell did you just say to me? Remus _NEVER_ would have trusted him!” I say and turn to point at Severus, his body pressed into the door frame, his hair still wet from the shower, curling a bit at the long ends that frame his shoulders. 

“She doesn’t know.” He says, calmly.

“You didn’t tell her?” Beth asks.

I feel invisible as they discuss me in front of my face.

“KNOW WHAT!” I shout, and then we all hear a buzz. Beth pulls a coin from her pocket and it is a dark red and buzzing.

“I have to go, now. Red means they found survivors,” she reaches down and takes my face gently into her hands, “Let him tell you. You will be so much better off if you let him tell you. Be well.” She said, and she kissed my forehead. 

I hadn’t had anyone do such a kind and intimate act to me in so long her lips burned in my forehead and I wish I could have fell into her arms, this woman, a stranger. 

And then she stood to leave, before I could melt into her, she turned and kissed Severus on the cheek, “Be well, and hang in there, you too were skittish at first. This is a new world we live in and it takes learning.”

Severus shook her and passed her a note in the process.

And then she was gone.

\--

Suddenly after being left alone with Severus the once delicious pizza in my stomach starts to turn. He stands there looking at me. His dark eyes incredulous. His hands deep in the pockets of faded black jeans, his feet bare, and the nakedness of his feet make him seem so vulnerable to me. And then it reminded me of the nakedness of his chest, the flex of his lean back, the sweat on his collar bones out in the workshop earlier, and my cheeks flushed. Why am I even thinking these things about this monster? The flush turns to hate quick.

“Should I go first, or are we still not going to talk?” he asked.

“We should talk,” I said.

“You’ve said that before Dora, and you bailed the second it got real.”

“Its weird hearing you call me that,” I say.

“Tonks feels weird. I can call you Tonks if you like, or Nymphadora.”

“No, Dora is fine. It’s just, it just feels weird hearing my name at all. I’ve been running for so long.”

“Well, stop trying to run here. This is where we are now. And it may be a season, and it may be longer, but you have to stop running. You are going to kill yourself. You look awful. Worse than when you got here. So, are we doing this? Because if you want to hear it, I will talk. But I’m not wasting my time if you are not ready to listen. I’m fucking tired, I haven’t slept in nights worrying about you, locked up in that room. So, you make the call Dora. The balls in your court. It has been. I’ve been dancing around you for weeks.”

“You felt that too? Like it was a dance?” I ask, my brain feels fuzzy.

“Yeah a little, although it felt a little more like an episode about wild animals in the jungle to me, then a ballet.” He says, and I laugh. A good and hard and long laugh. And I’m aware I look like a crazy person. But I laugh and keep laughing, I can see his face grow annoyed, “Okay, I’m going to my room, come talk when you’re ready.” He says.

“No, I’m ready,” I say, bringing my laughter down, “It’s just funny, I’ve had the song from the nutcracker stuck in my head for weeks, envisioning this sidestep we’ve been doing like a big ballet production… I think I’m going crazy.”

“At last, we agree on something.” He says, and a small smile escapes him. He reels it in so fast I wonder if I made it up, and I realize I don’t think I’ve ever seen this man truly smile. And that’s sad.

“I have a favor to ask, before you tell me whatever it is that is supposed to blow my mind.”

“What?”

“Can we eat the pizza while its hot, because I’m really hungry and I’m terrified to lose my appetite, I don’t think I could survive it,” I say.

“Yeah, I think we can manage that.” He says, and grabs a slice from the box. He goes back to stand in the door frame instead of taking a seat.

“You don’t want to sit?” I manage to choke out, regretting it the second I say it.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and I want to say no, no I’m not sure. But instead, I gesture to the seat across from me. And he sits, his eyes never leaving mine, burning a hole into me, making sure I’m ok. I’m not. But I’m good at faking it.

“Your hair stayed pink.” He says. Small talk. It’s our first form of small talk.

“Yeah, it’s actually my natural hair color. They can take my wand, but damn it they can’t take my awesome hair.”

He smiles. And takes a bite of his pizza. 

“Can I ask you something?”

I want to say no. But the pizza is acting like a drug and all seems well and euphoric as my stomach fills happily with hot food.

“Yes. But it doesn’t mean I will answer it.”

“What was your favorite song?”

“What?”

“All those nights you came to my door and listened, what was your favorite?”

I feel my face lose color, and the pizza turns in my stomach, talk about a mood kill. Damn it. I should have just skipped to the hard question with him, maybe I could have avoided answering hard questions of my own.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I lie.

“We can’t start this conversation built on lies. I’m about to tell you shit that is going to be hard for you to hear and believe, and extremely hard for me to say, and none of it can be a lie. We already both have trust issues. No more lies. Ever. Not from me anyway. I’m done with that shit.”

“At last, we agree on something. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” I say, embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again.”

“Yeah, okay, I knew I was invading your privacy. But when I would sit there and listen to that man’s voice, I just, escaped. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Oh shit, no, I thought you were apologizing for lying about it… You can sit outside my door anytime you want, I knew you were there, I could have stopped you, I didn’t, because I liked it too, it made me feel less alone.”

I blush. This isn’t real Severus. This is the one from the alternate universe. Isn’t it? This is a trap. I need to go to my room. I need to go look at my pictures of Remus, so I can remember that I don’t need to sit by his door, that I don’t need that music he plays. I can do this alone.

“I think it’s a bad idea, to do that, sit by your door. I don’t want you by my room. Or listening to me, so I won’t do it to you anymore. It was wrong. I crossed a line and I’m sorry.”

His face drops. I feel bad. But not as bad as I do for my Remus. 

I look up to the sky, as if in prayer, _please give me a sign, baby._

“Okay. This is good. Rules and boundaries are good. Maybe it will help you stop hearing the nutcracker in your head if we have some boundaries.” He says.

“Yeah, I think that will be good.” I agree.

“We are getting better at this agreeing thing.” He says with a mock cheerful tone, but underlying it is sadness. He wants to be my friend after this. But he can’t be. I won’t allow it. “Should we go to the living room, get comfortable? It’s going to be a long talk.”

I stay silent.

I start to panic.

I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready.

What if I believe him and I have to stay here?

What if I don’t believe him and I have to stay here?

“I actually think I’m going to go to bed, I’m feeling exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?” I say.

And I watch as the pale of his cheeks turn flush, with anger? Frustration? He stands up and slams the pizza box shut and puts the leftovers in the fridge forcefully. Then he slams the fridge door shut and presses his head into the door. I can hear him trying to take deep breathes. He is pissed. And I can’t understand why. Why it’s so important to him to tell me why he is here.

Severus

I slam my forehead into the cool door of the fridge. This girl was going to kill me or drive me crazy or both.

“No Dora, no you can’t go to bed. You’ve been in bed for a fucking month. NO, you can’t run. You must hear this! Its time.” I shout.

“WHY? Why is it so important for me to know why I should trust you? Why is it so important for you to tell me your story? Is it so I can feel better? I don’t need to feel better!”

“No, Dora it’s not so you can feel better… It's so _I can!_ ”

She is quiet. She just stares at me. Her eyes are wide, and I can almost see her mind going a hundred miles per hour.

She stays silent. And I let her. I let it sink in what I just said. I need this. _I_ need this!

She stands up and says quietly, “I think the living room would be more comfortable.”

She heads to the couch and has a seat; she grabs the cat pillow she seems to love and puts it in her lap and slouches over it with her legs crossed up on the couch like a toddler. She is so thin she looks juvenile.

I clean up the kitchen before I join her, I have to get my head in order. I have to settle down. I have to make sure I say the right things first. I have to make sure I get this right. I have one shot at this. One-shot was all you get to tell a story like this. 

When I get to the living room, she doesn’t look at me when I enter. Her head is down, and she is playing with the beads on the hideous pillow. She just says, “Start with what you know about Remus.”

“I should start at the beginning.”

“I said, start with what you know about Remus. That is the beginning and quite possibly the end of this conversation, depending on what you have to say.”

“Fair enough.” I clear my through, and sit on the floor, my back to the wall, my legs crossed like a child at storytime. I run my fingers through my hair and tuck it behind my ears, still damp from my shower. “I guess I should just start?” I ask.

“With Remus.”

“With Remus.” I second. “Let me start by saying, take no offense to the secrets that were kept from you. You know firsthand that this war made us do things we didn’t want. Made us keep things from people we love. And it was always, ALWAYS to protect our loved ones. Or, at least it was intended too.”

“Skip the shit, Severus. What do you know?”

“Remus was… was my friend. Not always, but as years went on Dumbledore,” I see her cringe at that name and I know she is just waiting to grill me on his death, but I am well versed with that story, so when it comes, I will tell it with truth, “Dumbledore sort of, brought us together. First when Lupin was teaching at Hogwarts and was under strict contract to take Wolfsbane. I, on the other hand, was under strict contract to brew that potion, which, was all part of clever Dumbledore’s plan. And the start of our acquaintanceship. Years went by after that, and Remus and I kept in contact in secret. Secret missions for the Order. Remus was my go-to, as Dumbledore put it, he didn’t want all our apples In one basket, and if I were to die, Remus would know all of the operations I had going on, and he would carry them out, and vice versa. Remus knew I was a double agent. He knew that I was to kill Dumbledore under, Dumbledore’s orders. He knew Harry might have to die for the cause, he knew it all. And he knew that I was doing all of this in order to try and bring down Voldemort, who, took the love of my life, and ultimately, yours.”

“I’m not surprised he kept secrets from me. He wasn’t an easy man to love.” She says, and this is exactly what I didn’t want. I didn’t want her to lose any respect in him. Or doubt him for my own selfish gain. 

“He did it to protect you.”

“I believe that.” She says.

“He was so good at what he did, he carried a heavy load knowing what I was up too. Knowing secrets of the dark Lord, playing messenger boy for Dumbledore.”

“Yeah, he always put so much into everything, so he could avoid dealing with what was really important.”

“He asked me to get you in hiding if he died.”

“Is that so? Maybe the kindest thing he did for me in all our time together was set up a plan for when he was dead.”

“Don’t be upset with him Dora, not now when he can’t defend himself. He loved you.”

“I know he did. But I had to beg him to. He fought me on it. But he was worth it.”

“He was. He was never happier than when he was with you.”

“Huh, funny how that works…”

“How what works Dora?”

“That you knew he was so happy with me, and I had no idea…”

This was going all wrong. I had to explain better.

“He had a lot on his plate, Dora. He loved you. He just didn’t think he deserved how much you loved him back.”

“I believe that too… Did you know I was with child?”

“Dora, we don’t…”

“No, I want too.” She cut me off, “I want to talk about the baby. My Aunt hit me right in the stomach and killed my baby, Remus, and my baby. Do you know he wasn’t happy? About the baby.”

“Dora, he was scared.”

“IT WAS OUR FUCKING CHILD! You don’t think I was scared? I was so damn scared. I needed him to be brave for me. Instead, he told me how he was to blame, how he should have been more careful, how he should have never married me, because he ruined my life… I was scared too!”

“Dora, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to bring up negative emotions, I only meant you to know that he loved you, and he was the one who secured your safety.”

“You didn’t only mean to let me know he loved me and got me here, no, you also wanted me to know you were innocent, in it all, a hero of sorts. Admit it.”

“It’s true. I needed you to know.”

“I believe you. That’s the craziest of this all. I believe you might not be a bad guy.”

“You do?”

“Why so shocked? Did everyone else along the way put up more of a fight? Ask more questions?”

“No, I just, do you have any questions for me? I’ll tell you anything.”

She looked around the room, and then at me, “Yeah, do you think you can get me some nail polish?”

“Dora, are you ok?”

“No, not really, but I hope you are, I hope you got the relief you were looking for.”

“He loved you Dora, so damn much, and he was terrified of the baby, but I know had he met…”

“I know Severus, you don’t have to defend his love for me. I know somewhere deep down, he loved me, even though I had to fight him for it, I know he loved me. The baby, that we will never know.”

She stood and started towards her bedroom. Then turned and said, “Blue, make it blue polish.” And she was gone.

Dora

_Entry 61_

_He is innocent. For the most part. I didn't get all the details. I don't want them. But he told me he was innocent. And I just choose to believe it. I choose to believe it because Remus did. And if Remus did, then it must be true. Because no one was a better judge of character or skeptic then Remus._

_I still don't know for certain if my mother is gone. That has become my next main mission. Do whatever it takes to find out. Because I need to lay her to rest, even if it's only in my mind._

_I ate pizza tonight._

_And I asked for nail polish._

_And I was reassured that you loved me, Remus._

_And what makes me the saddest about that last statement is that I needed to be reassured at all._

_I know you loved me. But it felt good hearing that other people knew you loved me. You were so hard, Baby. But I know it wasn't because you didn’t love me or want me, but because you didn't want me to have you._

_You never knew your worth Remus. You never knew how easy you were for me to love in those few moments when you let the world roll off your back and you clung to me instead._

_I asked for a sign Baby, and I think I got it tonight._

_I always thought I was a secret because you were ashamed to love me._

_But now I know I was a secret to protect me._

_You did well Baby. I’m safe._

_I fought so hard to have you. But now I have to fight even harder to let you go. Is that ok? Can I love you and let you go?_

_Light years Remus._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I am letting it all go one day at a time until I reach light-years._


	2. Chapter 2

Severus

Over the next several days Dora and I continue as we had been. The big reveal didn't change anything between us per say, but for me it made a world of difference. I knew it was up to her if she would believe me or not but saying my truth to her seemed to set me free.

We kept up the sidestepping around each other. Leaving rooms so the other could be alone. Creating space and distance. I’m outside a lot during the day, building things, while she reads on the couch. At night I sit on the porch, she is alone in her room. I wish she would join me outside, wherever this is, is beautiful. 

I miss potion making a lot lately. I miss magic. But I know I’m a better man without it.

I stopped playing the music at night.

Not because I don’t want to listen anymore.

But because I don't think it will feel the same now that I know she won't be listening with me. Now that I know her back won't be pressed against my door. She told me she thought it was a bad idea. So, I guess I’ll make it easier for the both of us and just not play music at all. 

She is looking better lately, today in particular. She has color in her cheeks and the hollowness of her face is filling in. She has been pulling her pink hair back, parted down the middle in a little bun at the nape of her neck and it makes her look younger, no, not younger, it makes her look her age. The war took years off all of us, but she seems to be getting them all back one day at a time. I can only hope I can steal a couple years back of my life too, I feel like I need all the time I can get to repair the damage I did. 

I think about her a lot. 

And this troubles me. Because I can't decide if I’m thinking of her because she is present and my only company. Or am I thinking of her in a disrespectful manner. Against her will. Because I’m sure she doesn’t want me thinking the things I think about her. 

Like, what does she do in that room all day? Stare at the walls? Daydream? And if so, what is she daydreaming about? And at night, does she sleep well? Or is she like me, forever in a state of panic, feverish nightmares and one eye open. What are her favorite foods? Does she like candy? Does she like jellybeans? I offered her some and she said no, I’m certain that was because she hated me in that moment, but was it also because she hates jellybeans? Did she like me as a teacher at Hogwarts? Because I was kind of a dick, no, I was a massive dick of a teacher, but a good teacher to my defense. If she could make a list of things she would like to have Beth get her what would it look like, because I want to get her everything on that list, not just blue nail polish, but anything to make her feel comfortable here, anything to make this better for her.

I sometimes catch her reading, and she smiles at her books, and frowns. I even once caught her growl at a book in frustration and throw it. I like that she does that, that she shows emotions when she reads, it gives some kind of hint that she is still feeling. 

When I first got here after days of travel, I remember standing in front of the mirror as it began to cover in steam from the heat of the shower. I looked hollow. My ribs showing through pale skin. My eyes dark holes in my face. The black ink on my forearm that will remind me forever of my past. I was starved. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. And although the first months here were long, and I was alone, it gave me time to think, for myself, for the first time in my life. I realized that I had never done something because I wanted too. It was always under some kind of pressure or for fear for my life or to try and save someone else's. 

Now as I sand down the pieces of wood in the workshop, that will soon serve a purpose, I think of it in its original form, as a tree, before someone cut it down, it stood tall, produced shade, created oxygen, housed animals. Maybe it used to bare fruit. Maybe it once had a little house built onto it for children to play in and now, it’s just rough scraps, with splinters, that could easily be thrown in a fire, disregarded. Or it can be measured out and cut, sanded and yielded together to create something useful again.

I am a lot like this tree. Just left-over bits and pieces, cut down, rendered useless. All the good parts gone or ruined; my main purpose chopped down to size.

But I am also a lot like this scrap wood. Ready to be transformed into something new. To be reborn, recreated. To sand away all the splinters and sharp edges. To be rebuilt into something of purpose. Something I can be proud of.

I sand the last long piece of wood and step back and look at my hard work. Remembering what it looked like when I found it in this dirty little shed. Then it was just an idea, but now, it was starting to take form of what it will be. 

Dora

_Entry 61_

_I am starting to feel better._

_In the sense that I have been doing things regularly again. I set up a routine for myself. Intentionally avoiding Severus. I am hopeful that I won’t always want to avoid him. I am hopeful that one day I can accept this fate for what it is and learn to enjoy myself in my environment._

_But not yet._

_I wake up right as the sun comes up. Which is new for me. I used to be up all night and sleep all day. But Severus is a night owl, so it works better if I go to bed early. I miss nights. But, for now, he can have them._

_I eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast every morning, because MILK! And when we run out, and we will, I probably will just drink my black coffee to hold me over until lunch, but while there is milk and sweet marshmallow Leprechaun cereal, I’m eating it._

_After breakfast I sit on the porch before it gets too hot. There is this warm breeze here that I have fallen in love with. I’ve always had so much gloom that this dry heat is starting to grow on me._

_(I still don’t know where I am BTW. And oddly enough I like that I don’t.)_

_I usually read after coffee, on the couch. That’s about when Severus gets up. He finishes the pot of coffee I brew which feels like an unspoken agreement we have. And the man puts so much sugar in it, it’s a wonder he’s not diabetic with teeth rotting out of his head. He eats tons of sweets!_

_Speaking of sweets, the witch, Beth came by. That’s where I got the pizza from. And she brought a ton of stuff. It makes me wonder if she will not return for a longer period this time._

_But man did she bring sweets! Bags of jellybeans for Snape, I’ve seen the man put a handful of assorted colors in his mouth at once and my stomach turns. She also brought gallons of milk, which Snape froze. Breads, which are now frozen as well and just a pretty good assortment of things. He has a good system down but made sure to tell me anything here is mine. So that was nice._

_Severus cooks dinner every night. He eats late, but he always puts leftovers aside for me. I am usually already turning down for the night when he eats, so that brings me to lunch. That’s right, I eat the leftovers from the night before for lunch. And, I have to admit, the man can cook. I wonder if he always cooked or if it comes from his years of potion making… He used to make Remus his wolfsbane… now he cooks me dinner… man, that feels cryptic and wrong…_

_SUBJECT CHANGE!!!_

_After lunch I am usually so full, I read some more, or snoop around, or work on the old puzzles I found in a cabinet in the hallway. And when I feel my food has settled enough, I go to the porch for a workout._

_While I work out Snape is at the old work shed, tinkering around with wood, and I envy that he has a project. I want a project so desperately._

_After I work out, I get a snack, daydream some more._

_I have days where the daydreams are of me and Remus, tangled in the sheets, he is vulnerable in these moments, I think that’s why I was always wanting him naked, so I could have his full attention. And these daydreams lead me to let my hand dip below the elastic of my panties and pretend I’m being touched by someone else for a while and I long for intimacy of any kind._

_Sometimes my daydreams are of me and Remus, and he is fighting me. Telling me he doesn’t love me. To stop wasting my time. I’m too young. He’s too broken. He tells me he is a monster, and he was at times. But these daydreams lead me to tears and only leave me wanting to be alone._

_This is when Severus comes back from the shed, he is always sweaty and sometimes I can smell a deep musk on him that is not bad, but tells me he worked hard. I know he will shower, so I wait until he is done to take one. I let him rinse off his day and sweat before he cooks his meal. I realize that while I avoid him, I am attentive and courteous of his routines and that makes me feel less guilty that I haven’t exchanged but ten words since we had “the talk”._

_After I hear the water turn off, I start a bath. I like to take baths in the big claw foot tub. I like baths because they eat up some of my time. I relax, and sing, the bathroom has great acoustics. I will shave my legs and lady parts and I wash my hair when its needed and I chip away at the old polish on my toes. I can only cross my fingers they bring me that damn blue polish, I just want one luxury._

_After my bath I do what I said I wouldn’t do._

_I press my ear to my door first, then the wall connecting to his, and I listen. I do this every night. But the music never comes._

_And I realize the biggest regret I have since I got here is telling him I don’t want to listen to his music anymore._

_So I lay down, close my eyes and pray I make it through the night without a nightmare, which nine times out of ten, will happen, and end up being my alarm clock right as the sun is rising, and I start my day again._

_I am Nyphadora Tonks._

_And I miss hugs._

Severus

I am startled awake to the sound of Dora screaming. I jump out of bed and run to her room. I don’t knock. I don’t shout her name and go for the door handle. I try to open the door. 

Locked.

I think in my head Alohomora. ALOHA-FUCKING-MORA!!

Of course, nothing happens. 

I beat on the door, “Dora, are you ok? DORA OPEN THE FUCK UP!”

I stop panicking for a split second and I hear the sound of her crying. So, I do the only rational thing, I kick the mother fucking door in. Her head is between her legs, she is curled up into herself, sobbing. 

I go to her, fall to my knees on the floor in front of her, and she doesn’t look up. She just cries. 

I can feel her body quivering just being near her, and I start to panic.

Can I touch her? Should I take her in my arms? Should I go get her a glass of water? Would leaving her alone be wrong if it's to get her water? What can I do that won't cross lines? Aside from kicking in her door, because that’s not crossing lines, right?

I follow my gut and I reach to her and rub her back. Once, twice. Still she cries and doesn’t come up for air. So, I reach out again and rub her back again. Once, twice, three times. I am so bad at this. I don’t think I've ever been in a position to comfort someone in my life.

“Dora, it’s ok, it was just a bad dream.” I say, because she is alive, no one is in her room attacking her, she just seems shaken up and…I have them too. 

“It was a bad one.” She finally says, head still between her knees, and I scoot in closer and decide to rub her back a little more. “It felt so real and yet I knew it was a dream and I kept telling myself to wake up, but I couldn’t.”

“Those are the worst ones for me too. To be in the worst nightmare and know you are there. It’s terrifying.” I say, and she brings her head up at this.

“You have them too?” she asks incredulously.

“Almost every night. I can’t tell you when the last time I got a full night of sleep was. Maybe when I was a child.”

“So, is that why you’ve always been so grouchy, sleep deprivation?” She says, and it lightens her face just a hint. She just made a joke. 

“No, I think I was just born an asshole.” I say, in all honesty.

She sits up a little more and wipes her remaining tears on the palms of her hands then on the blanket, at this I take notice that she is only wearing a thin cotton top that barely covers her, and a pair of underwear, and I can feel my face grow red and my heart rate quickens. 

I should go. I should definitely leave, now that I am noticing what she is wearing. 

“I kicked your door in.” I spit out, nervously.

“So much for privacy.”

“I’m sorry Dora, but you screamed, and I panicked…”

“I’m only kidding,” she cut me off, “Thank you, Severus.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said and took her thank you as my exit music, “Try and get back to sleep, its only two am, you still have another three hours before you usually wake up.” I say, completely aware 1.5 seconds after I say it that I just revealed way too much, that it revealed that I know what time she gets up in the morning. I grimace at my own stupidity and turn to leave. 

“Severus?”

I turn, I can see that she is still shaken, and I know this feeling, when the dream is so real and so terrifying you can’t shake it, you can't keep your head from thinking it might come true. 

“Do you think maybe we can listen to those albums?” she asks. And it was not what I expected her to say, but I’m also not even sure what I _did_ expect her to say.

“Yeah, would you like to listen tomorrow night, like we used too? Or I can just let you use them, there is an old stereo in the workshop I could set up for you.” I suggest.

“Do you think maybe we could listen to them now?”

I can feel the shock hit my face and I’m certain she sees it too.

She continues, “I just don’t think sleep is in the cards for me tonight, and I know you usually don’t go to bed until three or four.” She says, and a part of me wonders if her admission to my bedtime is to make me feel better about admitting I know when she wakes. 

“Sure, yeah… yes. Yes, we can do that.” I stammer.

“Okay, good. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Gotta get dressed.” She said, realizing in that moment she was very much on display, and her cheeks flush, matching the pastel that is her hair.

“Yeah, ok, great,” I start to leave, then I turn to ask, “Would you like a cup of water?’

“Yes please, that would be nice,” she says quietly, and when I turn to leave again, she finishes, “and some of those jellybeans, if you have any left.”

“I thought you didn’t like them?” I ask.

“I like them. I just didn’t like you.” She says, a small hint of a smile. Another joke. 

I try to smile back, but my lips don’t work properly, so instead I nod my head at her and leave for the kitchen.

When I get back to my room with a new bag of jelly beans, my favorite ones, they remind me a lot of Bertie Botts, minus the bad flavors, and two cups of water, she is already in my room, wearing the same white shirt, only she added a loose fitting knit sweater and a pair of cotton shorts. I hate that I notice how much skin she still has on display, but I do, so I advert my eyes to what she is looking at.

She is standing with her back to me, looking through a stack of CD’s. Some in the original cases, some with no cases at all, stacked on top of each other, some silver ones with sloppy print on them, labeling what the name of the mix was. 

The songs she liked the most were on a mixed CD labeled, Best Lyrics, and I hoped that’s what she wanted to listen to, because who even made the play list wasn’t lying, all of the songs had great lyrics, I only wish I knew who the man singing them was.

I clear my throat to let her know I’m back and she turns to me. We both just kind of stand there in silence, both hoping someone takes the lead on what to do here.

“I can put on whatever you want. What are you in the mood for?” I ask, breaking the silence.

“Something soft. Something peaceful. Something the opposite of what nightmares are made of.” She says.

I walk to where she stands and I reach out to grab for a few of my favorites, as I do this the dark ink on my forearm is on display and I twist my arm awkwardly to try and hide it. I see her look at it then look me in the eye to try and catch my response. I just shrug my shoulders at her, what can I say? It is what it is, she knows I have it, and it will never go away. It can’t be covered or removed. Unless I burn it off or skin myself. And I don’t see myself doing either of those things, so for now I’ll be more careful to hide it, wear lots of long sleeve shirts and try my hardest to remind her that’s not who I am anymore.

“This is the one I was playing all those nights when you first got here…Does that sound good or…”

“Yes, I was hoping you would remember.”

I wanted to ask her; how could I forget? Those nights were the closest thing I’ve had to company or companionship in years. I wanted to tell her that those nights were all I thought about these days. Something so simple as her back pressed to my door, something as simple as knowing we were listening to the same thing at the same time, and maybe, just maybe, feeling the same thing. 

“Yeah, it's my favorite. I play it a lot,” I say, opening the old, what could possibly be considered antique, CD disk holder, and put the mixed CD in, “You can sit on my bed, get comfortable, I’ll lay on the floor, I don’t mind.”

She slowly sat at the edge of the bed and ran her hands up and down her bare thighs nervously.

I put the album on, and the first song started slowly, and eased into his singing. I sat on the floor and opened the bag of jellybeans, poured and handful out and threw them all into my mouth at once. 

I see her make a disgusted face at this, then she holds out her hand for the bag, “That’s gross.”

“What? Eating that many jellybeans at once?”

“No. It's not how many, it's that you mix flavors.”

“Its all just overwhelmingly sweet any way. They all just blend into a mush of sweet and sour and a hint of salty when you do it that way… I think the salty is popcorn flavored.” I hand her the bag.

She tears the hole bigger so she can peek around, and she picks out, one by one, all the pale green ones.

“These are my favorite. Pear.” she says.

“I like them too. It makes me think of potions and what they had to combine to make them taste so much like a real pear.”

“Do you miss potions?” she asks, scooting back on my bed and crossing her legs.

“Yes. And no.”

“Okay, that answered the question perfectly, say no more.” She says, smiling as she popped one pear beans in her mouth, then handed me the bag back to me.

“It’s just, I was good _at_ magic, but I wasn’t good _with_ magic,” I pick a few pear beans out for myself and eat all of them at once, this makes her almost smile again, “what I mean is, I used magic the wrong way too many times. And now, I haven’t had it to use and I feel I am just in a better place. I don’t feel this pressure to use that magic to do, do, do, because I don’t have it, but If I did, I’m not sure I could resist.”

“Name one thing you would have done had you had magic since I’ve been here.” She asked.

“Oh, I would have lifted that barrier the first night.” I joked. Holy shit, _I_ joked. 

“Was that a hint of humor I detect Severus?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been funny. You tell me?”

“Definitely a joke,” She said, with a sarcastic slow clap. “Congratulations Mr. Snape at the telling of your first joke, how does it feel?” she said, talking into an imaginary microphone, then pointed it at me.

“Overrated.” I say and she disapprovingly shakes her head at me, holding her hand out for the bag of candy. 

I hand it to her, and she slowly picks through it, grabbing more greens and a couple dark ones, blue or purple, I can’t make out in the dim lighting. 

She puts a few in her mouth, and I can tell she is buying time now and I feel like even though the music is playing, the silence is loud. 

Just as I’m about to offer I leave her alone, or maybe change the CD she looks up from her handful of candy, “I’m just acting okay right now. But I’m not. I’m one hundred percent not okay. That’s my default, my defense mechanism, to be silly. That’s what I do to cover how I feel. And right now, I feel scared and nervous and just, not okay.”

“Do you want me to leave? You can sleep in my bed, so you have a place to stay where the door locks, I can sleep on the couch, I honestly don’t sleep much at all, so I don’t mind.”

“No, it's not you. Well, it is you, partly, but it’s not you entirely.”

I admire her honesty and I’m a little relieved it's not all me making her not okay. “Do you want to talk about it? I know that sounds cheesy, and I’m probably the last person you would want to talk about anything with, but fuck, I’m all you got.”

“Yeah, you are kinda all I got, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I don’t know about that.”

I just shrug. Because I suck at responding to her kindness towards me. I don’t deserve her grace and I sure as hell don’t know what to do with it.

“Severus, I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, ok, I’ll go to the couch,” I stand to leave and before I make it to the door I hear her stand too, and I turn around one last time, “I know you said you are not Okay, but, are you okay for now, like, to sleep?”

“No, I don’t think I am.”

Fuck. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. How do you comfort someone that hates you? How do you comfort someone that won’t tell you want they need? “Dora, I don’t know what to do here. I’m so fucking terrified to overstep a line. And I already kicked your fucking door in tonight, and honestly, I’m not good at all of this, so fuck. I don’t know what you want me to do, or if there is anything I can do at all besides offer you shit that’s probably going to give you cavities and play you music that’s probably too fucking sad even on a good day.”

“Can you stay with me? While I sleep.” she says low and uncertain.

“Yeah Dora, I can do that.”

As I go back to where I was sitting, she holds out her hand to me and I just stare at it, then back up to her face, then back down to her hand outstretched to me.

“It’s ok if you don’t want too, but can you come lay with me? I’m just really fucked up from that dream, and I just want to know I’m not going to wake up and be the only one left alive.”

“Lay with you? In the bed?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“It’s ok, I know that’s a lot to ask.” She backpaddled.

And before I could chicken out, before I could convince myself this was a terrible idea, and it was, I walk over to my bed and pull back the covers and get inside, then, with every ounce of courage I have left, I pat the empty space next to me, and just like that, she crawled into the space where I usually sleep and I pulled the blankets to cover us. Then I reached over her and flipped off the switch on the dim bedside lamp. 

The room was pitch black tonight as the moon was so new and maybe it the darkness or maybe I was just out of my mind, but before I knew what I was doing and before I over thought it, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her body into me. And for a brief moment we were bath stiff and paralyzed with anxiety and fear, but then the next song came on, the one I often would catch her singing along to and as if at the same time, we both let out a sigh of relief and I felt our bodies ease into each other. 

With us both laying on our sides, face to face, my arms holding her to me, her legs tangled between mine, I could feel the pounding of her heart start to slow and I smell the sweet pear on her mouth as she whispered, “Goodnight, Sev.” And then we both fell asleep.

Dora

_Entry 62_

_I had the nightmare again last night. The one that cripples me in fear. The one that lingers for days, keeping me uneasy and restless._

_The one where I wake up and I look for Remus, and he is gone. I call around our little flat in Surrey and it is eerily silent. He is nowhere to be found._

_I open the window to shout down to the gardens where he sometimes likes to sit and think, and its odd, but there is not a soul in sight. The streets empty. The garden empty. I look across the street at the deli, that should have a line out the door of people waiting to get their breakfast before they hit the train and there is no one there. It’s too quiet._

_I run the streets, bang on doors, but there is no one._

_No one until I hit the end of the Brookhurst Rd., that’s where I find them all. In a mass grave. And a top the mound of bodies, is Remus and I know I am alone. I know I am the only one left alive._

_Only tonight when I had the dream, it has changed a bit. Tonight, when I had the dream I was here, in this old barn style house. And tonight, when I search for a sign of life its not Remus at all._

_Tonight, when I had the dream, it was Severus I was looking for._

_Tonight, it was Severus that I find in the shallow grave, and he too, is alone, even in his death._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I feel the universe shifting._

Severus

I wake up and I can tell it’s far earlier than normal for me. I know she has left my bed before I reach for her because I can smell coffee in the air. Doubt and worry flood me and I try to push them away, its too early for those kinds of feelings, but I can’t shake them. I know she always wakes as the sun rises. I know this because I have become so sensitive to her steps on these old floorboards that I wake at the tiniest moan of her weight on the wood. Also, might I add that Dora at her quietest moment is still loud and clumsy in comparison to most.

But I fear the repercussion of last night. The set back it might have. I fear that in the moment it felt like the right thing to do, to say yes, to pull her body into mine, and God it felt good, but now in the aftermath it was wrong. Because it felt good. For me. I was only supposed to be there for her, but I know now that I took that opportunity for myself as well. 

How do I go about today? Do we dance around each other? Are we back to the silent treatment? Last night felt like a door opening for us, or rather, a door being kicked in for us. But what does that say for today? Should I try and go back to bed and wake up when I normally do and pretend nothing happened last night? Let her decide how she wants to approach the day following a night in each other’s arms.

I roll over to where I usually sleep. On the pillow I favor. And its cool on my warm, panicked face. It calms me a bit, then I get hit with the scent of her, lingering where her head laid only hours, maybe minutes ago, and my body responds. 

The sweet smell of sweet apple shampoo. My head betrays me, and I try to push any thought of her from my mind because I shouldn’t be thinking of her this way. But I can’t. I am failing. I can see her too clear, her pink hair a tangle of curls and waves, bunched up high atop her head. He skin so soft, a shine on her cheeks, and a faint trail of freckles lining her nose. Her collar bones sharp, fuck, her collar bones…

“Ugh!” I say and slam my fist to the pillow. I need to stop. I need to get out of bed, so I don’t stay here and let my mind wonder. I sit up quickly and decide to go get some coffee. Sleep is definitely not happening. 

Dora

The weather is changing. As I sit on the porch, my journal sitting next to me, fresh ink dries telling the story of being woken with nightmares and leaving out the ending of how I fell back to sleep.

I watch the sun come up and the sky turn from deep purples to dark reds to bright orange the air feels brisk. There is a chill underlying the heat I have grown accustomed too and I can feel goosebumps cover my exposed flesh and it reminds me that not long ago I was so warm in bed, with Severus next to me, his arms holding me heavy to him. The weight of him on me so comforting. The smell of him working like a sleepy scented candle, filling my nose and carrying me back to sleep. 

When I woke, I allowed myself but a moment to look at him. Really look at him while he was turned off. While he was not trying to tip toe around my emotions. While he was not trying to please me. And I discovered two things. 

I discovered when his face was free of worry and the weight of the world he carried on those dark brows; he was quite beautiful. His skin so pale I’m certain it’s been described in fairy tales about fair skinned princesses. His eyelashes long, black like a web around his almond shaped eyes, and I know under those faint lids are eyes so black you could trip and fall into them like a whole in the middle of the universe. His lips that usually carry an underlying scowl are loose, and soft and something came over me and I wanted to reach for them, and run a finger over them, pull the corners up, see what a smile might look like on him. I noticed he had a slight shadow of stubble lining his jaw, and on anyone else it would have aged them, but not Severus. He looked years younger. 

I discovered he was remarkable when he slept. Yes, sleep looked good on him, too good. 

And when my moment was over, I slid free from his grip on me and when our last bit of contact was broken, he let out the softest moan of protest and it made me want to turn around and fit back into him, and it also made me want to run.

I hear the screen door behind me and it startles me, it’s early for him to be up, but given last night I’m sure he too is out of sorts and needing to talk, something I’ve been terrible at with him. Guilt kicks in. 

“You’re up early.” I say, turning to notice he is holding a cup of coffee, his back pressed to the house, his pajama pants worn thin and hanging off his sharp hips, his black tee shirt drunken in the collar, the V hanging low on his chest, his feet bare, I look down to my own, also bare and cold, I could really use some new socks.

“I could say the same for you, but you are always up early. I’m not really a morning person, but, last night was… different, I guess, thought maybe you might want to talk? Or maybe you might want to go back to not talking at all?”

“Do you want to come sit with me? It’s a little chillier than most mornings, but the sun is up enough now that it’s starting to warm my toes.”

He hesitates for a second, then takes a seat next to me on the porch stairs. He cups his coffee between both hands and just looks out at the nothing surrounding us. I do the same. It’s a fine line between silence and conversation. And we teeter on it for what seems like an eternity.

“I think we need to talk Dora.” He finally says.

“I agree. I want to start with apologizing for being so difficult when you’ve been nothing but courteous and kind to me.”

“I’ve never been told I was kind before.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever truly been in the company of good people then.”

“Or maybe I’ve just never been kind.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, Dora, I honestly have never had a reason to be kind to anyone.”

“So, what’s your reason now?”

He doesn’t answer the question.

“I meant; we should talk about last night. I’m sorry I broke your door and I’m not sure I should have… I know it was a reaction, and we were in a moment, and you asked me too, you know, but if I should have said no, or maybe I shouldn’t have touched you, but I just, fuck, what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“It felt a little too good. Huh?”

“What? No, I didn’t do it to feel good Dora, I just…”

“It felt too good for me too.” I say. Cutting him off.

“It did?” he asks, shyly, his eyes on his coffee.

“Yeah, it felt really fucking good Sev. Thank you. For being brave for me. Because I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you to do. And I know we are both all fucked up over last night, but I needed that. So, yeah, thanks.”

“But it wasn’t hard for me. It was so damn easy. That’s _why_ I’m so fucked up over it. Why is it brave for me to comfort you? Shouldn’t that just be second nature for people? I’m not good Dora, and last night I did something so normal and I am just, really fucking scared that I fucked up and that you will pull away again. And I don’t want you to do that again. I don’t want you to pull away again. Okay?”

He looks down again. His honestly is alarming to us both. He has been going out on a limb for me over and over and I know in this moment it’s my turn to do the same for him. I reach out rub my hand down his arm, over his dark mark, and ease his hand away from his death grip on his coffee cup and intertwine my fingers with his. He looks at our hands together, and then up to my face, question in his eyes paired with a hint of ease. 

“I won’t pull away again. I don’t want too,” I squeeze his hand, “I like your jellybeans and music too much.” I joke. And I’ll be damned, he smiles! and I am so happy that I resisted pulling his lips up into a fake smile while he was asleep earlier, because the real thing was so much better, I’m so damn happy I waited for the real thing.

I pull my hand back, worried It was too much, and use it to drink my coffee, to make the take back of my hand seem necessary. He does the same. 

Severus

She takes her hand from mine to drink her coffee and I feel both relieved and sad. But I don’t want this moment to end. 

“I think we should eat dinner together.” I say, “I can cook earlier so you can be in bed by six like a grandma, if that will help. But I think we should start with having dinner.”

“Did you just call me a grandma?” she asks, smiling at the joke.

“Yeah.”

“Asshole.”

“I know.”

“Okay, dinner it is.” She agrees. “I think we should ask each other more questions. Like, what the hell are you building out in that shed?”

“I can’t tell you.”

She raises her eyebrows. A little scowl on her face and I can almost swear her hair grows a shade darker.

“What? I can’t tell you. Don’t get mad. It’s just, it’s a surprise.”

“I vaguely remember you saying honesty at all cost recently.”

“Yeah, but I’m not lying to you, I’m just withholding information. It’s a secret, not a lie.” I say, and I want to tell her, because I am honestly pretty excited about it, but I know the surprise will be worth the wait.

“No wonder you were a great double agent, you are too good at deflecting.” She says.

“Low blow.”

“You go then, ask me a question.” She presses.

“Dora I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

“I know, I know, you keep telling me that. You keep telling me that you are not good at things then you do them and you are. Last night you said you didn’t know what you were doing, or how to comfort me, but when you pulled me into your arms it was the perfect antidote to my problem. So stop saying you are not good at things, I think if you try, you might discover, you are doing just fine.” She says.

And it blows me away. She is fierce and beautiful and sexy. She completely makes me lose my mind.

Dora

He looks at me, intent. I could almost swear I see a flicker of something new in his eyes, I could almost swear I see lust. And heat fills me. I have to look down at my coffee.

“Okay, I’ll try,” he says and swirls the last bit of coffee at the bottom of his cup and I can only imagine it’s a pile of sugary sludge, “Tell me one thing you miss from the old world?”

“See! That’s a fucking fantastical question.” I say.

“Fantastical?”

“Yes grouch, fantastical, and I miss great socks!”

“Seriously. You miss socks?”

“Yes. Hell yes! Do you know what kind of magic a great pair of socks holds?”

“No, I wear black socks.”

“Of course you do, they have to match you soul right?” I joke and he almost lets himself laugh, damn it, I will make this man laugh, “So when I was younger my dad bought me loads of silly socks, and he told me if I was having a rough day all I had to do was lift up my pant leg or robes and take a look at my socks and they would make me smile.”

“What was so silly about these socks?” he asks.

“Oh man, every pair was different, like one pair had cats puking up hair balls, those cracked me up every time. And for Christmas one year he got me a pair with butts farting and when they got too dirty or if your feet got too stinky, the little butt farts would actually start to stink. Hilarious.”

“Both of those sound disgusting.” He says. 

“Well of course they do to you, you are a prude. But they were not even the best pair, my absolute favorite pair had eggs and bacon on them, and the eggs and bacon would dance around like they were frying, those were my absolute favorites.”

“Now I’m hungry,” he said at my mention of eggs and bacon socks, “should we go eat some breakfast?” he offered.

“I thought you said dinners together, there was no mention of breakfast.” I say, and I can see him panic, “I’m only kidding, yes, I would love breakfast.”

“You’re a brat.”

“You’re too serious.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I know.” I say and reach out a hand to help him up and he takes it and keeps it. Then he turns to leave, and I decide I won’t let him off that easy, “You didn’t answer the question.”

“It was my question for you.” He deflects.

“And now I’m asking you, what do you miss most from the old world?”

He stops, and thinks, then looks down and his hand in mine, and says, “Absolutely nothing.” 

Severus

I cook us oatmeal and although it is loaded with brown sugar and apple chunks, it’s no bacon and eggs. 

Dora sits at the table, working on a sudoku puzzle while I cook. Her legs are up on the chair and she is using her thighs to hold the puzzle steady as she writes. In between writing down numbers she clicks the pen several times and then chews on it. 

I realize in just these 5 minutes together that she is fidgety, and it seems like everything she does has a bit of a bounce to it. I like that. 

She wrote in a number and clicked the pen a few more times. She can’t see me, but I smile. I could get used to this, but I don’t let myself think on it too long.

“Would you drink more coffee if I made another pot?” she asks.

“I can always drink more coffee.” I say, as I slice the apples into tiny cubes. Besides, getting up early and staying up late was going to kick my ass and I made a deadline for myself with my project, so I could use the extra energy to get it done.

She hops up out of the chair and puts the chewed up, drooled on pen in the book of sudoku puzzles to save her page, and I just can’t imagine why she would need more coffee with the amount of pep she already has. 

I want to talk to her, but the words escape me. It feels like we are on a level where we do that now, talk, but every time I come up with something to say or ask, I decide against it.

She is next to me now, readying the pot of coffee, and I suddenly feel very aware of myself, the dark ink on my arm on display, I try and turn it under. I should have gotten dressed, I feel sloppy in my pajamas next to her, even though she too is in her pajamas, or lack thereof. It was going to get cold soon, I could tell by the chill in the air this morning. It made me think of the small backpack she had, and how she couldn’t have but a few items of clothing. And now that I think on it, I had really only seen her in the same few things, some dark blue jeans, a Hufflepuff tee shirt, a dark green tank top with a daisy patch over the heart and some other random shirts that don’t stand out to me particularly. 

“Do you have any warmer clothes with you? And pajamas that cover you more?” I ask, and she freezes dead in her tracks and looks down at her thin, almost see through cotton shirt, and her tiny cotton shorts and she self-consciously pulls her oversized cardigan sweater to cover herself as her face flushes pink. And I know I fucked up. I worded that all wrong, so I back pedal, “It’s just, it’s going to get pretty cold soon, especially at night and we don’t have any heat aside from the fireplace.”

“I don’t have much. I had to leave in a hurry, and I was thinking backwards and grabbed more mementos than practicalities, so here I am, half naked, toes frozen and clearly making it hard for you to focus on oatmeal making.” She said and lifted an eyebrow at me.

I really had to be careful what I say to her. Because she seems to love to find a way and turn things. “I only meant to offer that we ask to get you some clothes in the next supply run, if you need them.”

“I know what you meant, Sev. Gah, you’re so easy to fluster. It’s way too fun. Now, eyes on the apples, would hate for you to lose a finger over my bare legs.” She joked, and she wasn’t wrong. 

When the coffee is done, I serve up the oatmeal and we both sit at the table, facing one another. Our first time sharing a meal. It feels like a holy communion. 

“I don’t really like oatmeal.” She says, as she scoops apples to add to her bowl. And I grimace, why hadn’t she said so before I made it? I could have made something else. Well, no I couldn’t, because we were running low on everything. But for fucks sake, she had no filter.

“Oh well. It’s all we had. So, eat it and pretend you like it.” I say back, only half joking.

“What I was going to add before you got your panties in a bunch was, I don’t really like oatmeal because my mom made me eat it so much as a child, but she also never doused it in brown sugar. Good call there, this smells amazing!”

I try and hold back a smile. She was going to be the death of me. Maybe I should rethink wanting her to stay. Maybe I should rethink, wanting to have dinner with her. 

“So, what are you building out there in that workshop?”

“You already asked that.”

“I know, I thought I would be sneaky and ask again, see if you forget it was a secret.”

“I don’t forget. And you are terrible at being sneaky.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” I ask, she is hard to read sometimes.

“For the compliment.”

“When did I complement you? And why are you so fucking difficult?”

She smiles at my insults, she loves it, and I do too, because I too, struggle with having a filter at times. 

“You said, I’m terrible at being sneaky. Being sneaky isn’t necessarily a good quality, so I’m happy I’m terrible at it.”

“Then why try and be sneaky at all?” I ask, incredulously.

“Because I really want to know what you are building.”

“It’s a doghouse.”

“Whaaaaat? Are we getting a puppy?” she asks way too excited.

“No. It’s for you.” I say, I can’t resist. She set herself up for that one. And when I see her letdown, I feel a bit bad for the joke.

“Ew, rude.” She pouts and takes a huge bite of food.

“Stop trying to fool me into telling you what I’m building.” I say and lift coffee as if in a toast. She gives me puppy dog eyes in return and does a whine like a puppy would, and I smile. She is ridiculous. And I can’t look away.

We continue to eat, and for not liking oatmeal she sure does eat a lot of it. And we drink the rest of the coffee and I add too much sugar to mine, and she doesn’t add enough and I can feel my head buzzing with all the caffeine and I want to sit at this table forever and watch her be awkward and silly and sometimes brash, but I know I can’t, I know I have to keep my routines up. Because I can’t let her dictate what I do. Not even if I want her too, not even if I would be ok letting her eat up all my days and nights, because that kind of behavior is what got me into this mess. That kind of behavior is what made me lose myself in the first place and I would rather have _some_ time with her where I am 100% myself then give her all the time in the world and it never be me.

Also, why do I think she wants to be with me all day anyway? Wishful thinking, I suppose.

Dora

After breakfast Severus heads off to fiddle-faddle in the workshop and I am left to my own devices.   
It’s crazy but things shifted so quickly around here that I don’t know what to make of it all. I went from wanting to avoid him like the plague to already feeling his absence. 

Last night I needed him. I didn’t know I needed him. But I did. And he came to my rescue without question. After weeks of me ignoring him. Weeks of me causing him so much worry. Neither one of us asked to be here. But we are. And I needed someone last night, and he was all I had, and as much as I would not have asked for it to be him to come to my aid, I’m also not mad it was. 

What we have between the two of us is circumstantial, that I am certain. But who says circumstances can’t have underlying fate written into them? 

Did the stars not fall into place at random? Creating little pictures in the nights sky that so many people look up at and say from all over the world, “Hey, look there, the big dipper!”

Fate and circumstance are brother and sister.

No. Fate and circumstance are lovers. Yes. Lovers.

I decide I should put some clothes on, and I smile at the thought of my skin being so distracting to a man. I was never the kind of distraction I wanted to be to Remus. I think the thought of it being a distraction to Severus enthralls me. 

Especially because its Severus. 

He is so matter of fact-ly. It’s nice to see him fumble under the weight of something so human. 

I pull on my only pair of jeans, that I have been washing in my bath water when I’m done and hanging them to dry on the porch every couple days, and my favorite black and white striped shirt, and decide to creep around and see what he is up too, it’s not sneaky if I guess what he is building, right?

I make my way outside and in just a matter of hours the sun is out in full and the cool, crisp breeze I felt this morning is a thing of the past. I can feel sweat form under my nose just from walking around the house to the shed. And I can’t imagine it getting cooler anytime soon. But I also have no idea where I am and have no idea what is in store for us weather wise, hell, I don’t even know when the next time we will get food is. 

I sneak up to the work shed so I can spy on him and I find him measuring a piece of wood, and then he puts a nail in place and hammers it into the wood. His brows are pressed tight, deep in thought. His hands are fastidious while he works. I think back to the old world, is this what he looked like when he brewed potion?

“Severus, I’m here, please don’t throw a hammer at my head.” I say, letting him know I am present, trying to avoid startling him.

He doesn’t look up at me, he is measuring something that seems to need an exact dimension. “I know you are here.” He says.

“Really? I was so quiet; I was trying to spy on you.”

“Dora, quiet to you is like a bull in a china shop.”

“Well you seem extra grouchy, I guess I’ll let you get back to work and brooding.”

He stops working at this and sits down the hammer. He leans against the work bench and lifts the bottom of his black shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and I can see a small trace of dark hair trail into the black jeans that hug his sharp hips. I feel my face flush, and I try and divert my eyes to something else, like the ground. That’s a great place to look when in company.

“What’s going on Dora? Why did you come out here? Aside from trying to guess what I’m building.”

“I’m bored. You have this project to work on and fill time and I have nothing, I can only look at the walls for so long.”

“Do you want to help me?” he asks.

“No, I don’t want to intrude. I should have left you alone. This is your thing. I’ll go read or something.”

“It’s not _my_ thing. And I could use some help. I measured some slats of wood wrong and now I need to sand the new pieces.”

“I don’t know how to woodwork.” I say.

“I didn’t either when I found all this junk. But you’d be surprised how much you can teach yourself if you are bored enough.”

“It’s ok, I’m gunna go. Besides I would _hate_ to guess what it is.”

“I thought you wanted to know?”

“I mean; I do want to know, but I also LOVE surprises.”

“You must have been a nightmare during Christmas.” He says.

I laugh, “Yeah, I most definitely was.”

He lifts his shirt again and wipes his forehead, and this time he catches me staring. Busted.

“Come here.” He says gently. And my heart races, but I listen, and I walk into the shop. “Do you want to help, or not?” he asks, and I nod yes. He walks closer to me and reaches behind me to grab a tool, when he does this his arm drags across mine, I wonder if its intentional. “This is a hand sander. It’s a pain in the ass and will leave your hands and arms sore, but it helps finish the wood. It will rub away any one the imperfections, splinters and sharp edges if you do it thoroughly. Which we need to do, so this project can properly serve its purpose.” 

“Okay.” Is all I manage to say.

“Here start with this piece of wood,” he grabs a smaller piece, and sits it on the work bench, then he closes the gap between us and he is standing right in front of me, my breath catches at his closeness, his very unexpected closeness, “turn around, I’ll show you how to use it.” He says, and I do.

When I turn, he runs his hand from my elbow to my wrist, which seems unnecessary, just to get to my hand and place it in the hand strap of the sander, but I don’t complain. In fact, my head spins at something that seems so intimate. I welcome it. Who thought woodworking could be so carnal?

His body presses into my back and I can feel the heat from him on me, then he wraps both his arms around me and places his hands on mine atop the sander, into my ear he speaks so low, it’s almost a whisper, “Is this ok?” and I feel goosebumps cover me, I can feel his mouth at my ear, and I nod yes. “Okay, so next we go back and forth, pressing into the wood, making sure to stay with the grain of the wood,” and he begins to move my arms, only further creating friction between our bodies. It’s almost too much to endure. 

“Am I doing ok?” I manage to say.

“Perfect, we just need to just apply more pressure.” He says, and his body presses into mine harder, urging me to lean in further over the wood, and his hands tighten on mine, and I can see the veins on his arms, and the dark ink and the slight hint of sweat and it’s all too much, I push him back in panic. 

“Man, its hot. Are you hot? I’m _really_ hot.” I spit out, and I see hints of a cocky smirk on his face, he knew what he was doing to me. At least it wasn’t my imagination. At least I wasn’t the only one getting… turned on? Fuck. I was totally turned on. I had to go.

“Yeah, that’s the only downfall of being out here. It’s pretty miserable.” He says, as he leans up against the work bench, “So does this mean you don’t want to help?

Oh, I wanted to help alright, but for all the wrong reasons. This was so wrong. This was absolutely not ok. I should not, and would not, go there. I need to leave.

“I guess this is why I became an auror and not a wand maker, I guess woodworking just isn’t my thing.”

He just shrugs his shoulders at this. “See you at dinner?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, and start to leave, but it seems a little too tense, so I joke, “And take a shower first, you are a sweaty mess.”

He smiles, “Will do.” And he turned back to the table and straight back to work. 

It seemed like a generic send off. He seemed unphased. Maybe I _was_ imagining things, maybe that was just him trying to teach me something and my body overreacting like a crazy person. I think I too needed a shower, a cold one.

Severus

I let her walk away. And I try to keep my composure. Because what just happened there was not what I intended. But I am almost certain she felt what I felt. I can almost guarantee she left because I got close, and she liked it… hell, I liked it. She made the right choice to leave. Because if she did feel something, some glimmer of affection, of intimacy, I can almost also guarantee its because she is lonely and confused and trying to fill a void, that shouldn’t be me. That will never be me.

Last night was a fluke. Last night bridged a gap for us, sure. But it was an absolute fluke. And if I’m smart, I won’t let what happened last night or in this workshop today, happen again. Because she knows damn well, that the only reason she would even consider me as anything but a roommate or a friend, would be because I’m the only damn option.

Just yesterday we hadn’t said but a handful of words to each other. We avoided each others every step. And one night together doesn’t fix that. One night comforting each other does not fix years of brokenness. 

No.

I won’t be her rebound. It will only hurt us both. And if one of us ends up hurt, and we are stuck in this house, it will turn into a long ass forever. 

Dora

_Entry 62_

_Ok. I left out a minor detail about the nightmare last night. I left out the part where Severus kicked in my door to see if I was ok._

_I left out the part where he held me in his arms all night as I slept._

_I left out the part that I needed it._

_I left out the part that I liked it._

_I don’t know who I’m hiding these truths from._

_Who is even going to read this? What does it even matter? Everyone I love is gone._

_Am I afraid to disappoint them? Why? Why should I not let this man comfort me? Am I supposed to be miserable forever because everyone died on me? Because I couldn’t save them?_

_What if this time I need saved? And I found someone who can?_

_Then what?_

_Why is being alive so confusing?_

_Why do I feel guilty that I want to be alive?_

_Why do I feel guilty that I want to be saved, and feel happiness, and comfort, and laugh, and joke, and maybe just maybe feel loved?_

_I had breakfast with Severus today after we watched the sun rise. And it was nice._

_Then he taught me how to sand wood, and it was also nice._

_And then I freaked out and ran away. And that was not nice._

_Things just changed so quickly I feel like its phony._

_I think I need to take a step back._

_I am Nyphadora Tonks._

_And I need a lobotomy._

Severus

I come back to the house later then normal. I needed to work off my thoughts and give her the time that I decided she needed from me. To remember I’m Severus Snape, to give her time to remember that she wants to avoid me. 

So, I’m less than surprised when I find the note on my bed, on the pillow her head was on mere hours ago, where I had held her. 

_Sev,_

_I am exhausted. Didn’t sleep much last night, but already knew that right? Maybe we can start doing dinner together tomorrow night? Don’t be mad at me, ok?_

_Dora_

Don’t be mad at her? Why would I be mad at her. It almost makes me sad that she thinks so little of me that she assumes canceling dinner is grounds for anger. I knew it, I knew she would come to grips with the situation again. 

I’m still Snape.

I take a much longer, much hotter shower than normal. I feel my brain swamped with anxiety. I guess I do feel angry after all. Not at her, but just overall. 

I’m angry that I got a taste of what I can’t have.

I’m angry that I want what I can’t have.

I’m angry that she wanted it too, even just in a moment of weakness.

I turn off the shower and my skin is bright pink from the hot shower. I towel off and throw on my pajama bottoms, the ones that were pressed against her legs. All roads lead to Dora. I can’t control it. I need to just go to sleep. But I feel wired. So, I head out to the porch. Fresh air should help.

When I walk by her room, I slow my pace. And for a split second I think I’m going to knock and ask if she is ok. But that’s not my place, so I stay in my lane.

I need to get her door fixed.

I glance in the kitchen, to see if she is in there, but she is not, I knew she wouldn’t be, but I look anyway. 

When I make it to the porch, I realize all I ate today was oatmeal and way too much coffee and my stomach growls, but I ignore it. 

It seems like only yesterday I was at lavish parties, surrounded by money, and dark magic and expensive food and drink. At first, before I joined with Dumbledore, I enjoyed the parties, thought the more of them I went to, the closer I came to becoming one of them. But I later learned it wasn’t the money in your Gringotts account that mattered, it was kills under your wand.

The second time around at these parties I hated them. The food became foul in my already turned stomach, the drink took away my clear train of thought, which was dangerous, and the women’s smiles made me want to run and hide in a room, only now I wanted to be alone, and not with one of them. 

So much mindless killing, so much gluttonous eating, so much emotionless sex. 

I can remember so many nights that I used women. And I knew they used me too. Severus Snape, Voldemort’s second in command. I was the most powerful of all the death eaters, and with that came perks, if you could call them that. And never once did I feel my body come alive with these women during sex the way it did just to be near Dora, just to be in conversation with her, hell, just to have her back pressed to my door, listening to music. 

I hate that I am comparing her to such ugly times. I hate that I can think of her in the same brainwave that I think about these selfish encounters. But she is all consuming. 

The fresh air isn’t helping, I can’t seem to shake her. Maybe sleep will help after all. I’m probably delirious. I can just go to bed and cross my fingers that tomorrow I am back to my antisocial self. And Dora is back to avoiding me so we can prevent any confusion or trouble. 

Dora

The next few days are strange. Its like we took a step back, but when we took it, it filled with a new awkwardness. 

We used to just avoid each other, and when we would cross paths act as if the other was not there. But now when we cross paths, there are awkward glances, and hello’s that seem unfinished. 

We haven’t held up to our plan of dinner together.

I didn’t show up and he didn’t pry.

But sometimes we have coffee together, and the conversation is rough and forced. 

I hate it. I hate him this way. And I hate myself this way. We need to find a middle ground. One where we both felt safe, and conversation flowed free and sexual tension was not an issue because we don’t have any, right? Because we both know that would be all bad. 

And how do I even know this was even a sexual situation for him at all. I highly doubt I would be someone Severus would find attractive. I’m sure given the situation at hand, and me being the only woman to chose from he could make an exception, but given the chance I’m sure Severus was into moody women, with dark hair, minimal humor and pure blood… 

I shouldn’t think like that. He’s not that man. But today I’m especially cranky in my thoughts towards him.

What would I even know about sexual attention? The only man I had been with I had to beg to love me and when we made love, I would awake to him gone, and have to listen to him tell me the following day how he shouldn’t be with me, that he regretted it. 

Ha. Even my husband didn’t desire me.

This puts me in a mood. Lately thinking of Remus does that, because the longer he is gone the more I remember the bad times. And sadly, there seem to be more of them, than good. 

I was a fool.

I grow self-conscious of my appearance with all these thoughts and decide to put together a little list of things I wouldn’t mind having if Beth could get them for me.

I tare out a page of my journal and I write Beth a letter.

_Beth,_

_I know this is a long shot, and I hope it doesn’t make me seem ungrateful for what you have already given me. But if possible, I would love some new pajamas, maybe a pants set with a robe. I could also use another pair of pants; I only have the one pair and they are going to give out in the ass any day now. Really just clothes in general, possibly a jacket when it gets cold. And lastly, if possible, just a little of the girly essentials, a mascara at least. If its not too much to ask, once again, I am in no way ungrateful for what I have, I mean come on, MILK!!!_

_Thank you so much for the safety and what you do for witches and wizards like me._

_Dora_

I fold the note and walk it out to the kitchen, so I don’t forget to give it to Beth if she must run off like last time. And she should be here any day now. Its been close to a month. And we will be out of coffee soon, and that could result in a murder. 

I notice him out on the porch, he goes out there every night, I envy that he took the porch at nighttime now that we are back to avoiding each other. I want to enjoy the night sky too. 

I decide to hell with it and head out to sit with him. We must find a middle ground right, now or never seems good to me.

I open the screen door quietly and he turns, shocked that I’m joining him.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, because he should, because I have a nasty habit of only coming to him when I need something.

“I’m fine. Just, miss the night sky. I’ve been pretty stupid, and I haven’t been coming outside at night because this guy I’m avoiding sits out here.”

“He must be a pretty shitty guy, to miss out on the moon and stars to avoid him.” He says, and my heart aches a little, because I can tell he believes this, he believes I think him to be a shitty guy.

“Complete opposite actually, she’s a shitty girl who is a mess and has taken a new hobby of running from things. Even good things.”

“She sounds lame.” He jokes, and I laugh out loud. “Come sit with me Dora.”

“I thought you would never ask.” I say, and I have a seat.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks, and I realize that I’m half naked again, and pray Beth can get me something modest to wear around him.

“Not really, you weren’t kidding, its pretty fucking chilly.” I say and I wrap my big sweater around my legs. 

“Sit tight.” He says, and then he is gone into the house. I take a deep breath because I hadn’t taken one since I stepped outside. Fuck, it felt good to be next to him.

I hear the screen open and I don’t turn around, but I feel the warmth of a blanket encapture my shoulders, and then he is next to me.

“Give me your feet.” He says.

“What, no! Why?” I ask.

“Just trust me.” He says, and I realize I do. So, I lean back on my hands and put my feet in his lap, where he proceeds to put a pair of all black socks on my feet. They are too big, but they feel warm and I smile.

“Thank you Sev.”

“You’re welcome. Are you warm enough now?”

I want to say no, to see if he will put his arms around me, give me some of his body heat, but I don’t. Middle ground, right?

“Yes.” Is all I say. And I look up, but I can feel his eyes on me, “I wrote Beth a letter, and I made a few requests. I wanted to make sure that was ok with you that I did that.”

“Yeah, of course, that’s a great idea. What did you ask for?”

“Jellybeans.” I joke. He smiles. I haven’t seen it in a while. Its beautiful. He is beautiful. How had I missed that part? The part where his dark black hair frames his face, tucked behind his ears, little unruly curls escaping. How did I miss his sharp jaw and his pale pink lips? His dark eyes. How did I miss that he was absolutely breath taking, for all these months?

“I’ve missed you.” He says. And his admission makes my heart race.

“Same.” I say, because all I have is one-word answers tonight apparently.

“What did you ask for?” he repeats the question, “Unless its personal.”

“Some clothes, some modest pajamas and mascara, at the least.” I say, “oh, and a jacket.”

“All reasonable.” He says and looks back out at the sky.

“How’s the project?” I ask, and I flush at the thought of his body on mine in the workshop.

“Almost done. So, if you really want it to be a surprise don’t go out to the workshop. You’ll be able to guess at this point.”

“Okay, I won’t.” I say.

“You won’t because you don’t want the secret ruined, or because you didn’t like what happened last time you were in there?” he asks.

“What exactly did happen in there Sev? I’ve been trying to figure it out. And I’m not so sure we think the same thing.”

“I crossed a line with you, got to close, made you uncomfortable… something along those lines.” He says.

“Is that how you see it?”

“Yes Dora, that’s how I see it. While I’m happy you are out here with me, I don’t want you to forget who I am.”

“Who are you Severus? Because just weeks ago you were convincing me that you were a good guy, that did bad things, but a good guy none the less. You were telling me you rescued me and that you did everything for the greater good, so tell me, who are you Severus?”

“I am all of those things, but I’m still Severus Snape. And I don’t want you to…”

“Don’t want me to what Severus?” I cut him off. “Say it.”

“I don’t want you to forget that you hate me, and that this is all just by chance. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have to be. We wouldn’t be talking if you didn’t have to and you sure as hell wouldn’t let me hold you through the night if you had someone else.”

“I don’t have to be here, out here with you, talking to you. I don’t. But I am, because maybe I fucking missed you too. And maybe I did hate you. And maybe this is all just a chance, but you know what? I think we are pretty fucking lucky we get this chance, and I’m not wasting it anymore. I want to be out here with you. And I want to talk to you. And I don’t hate you, not even a little. And I wanted you to hold me that night. And you didn’t cross a line with me that day in the shed, I wanted that too, I just freaked out, because I’m not good at all this. I have never had anyone treat me like you do, and I’m not sure I know how to accept that. I had to fight so hard for any kind of attention from Remus and you give it to me so willingly and it fucking scares me Sev.”

He just looks out at the sky. And I want to yell at him to say something because I’m feeling pretty fucking stupid. But he says nothing. Maybe I _had_ read him all wrong.

“I’m going to bed. I clearly killed the mood.” I say, and I get up to leave but he presses me back down to sit before I get can fully get up.

“Stop running when things get weird Dora.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“You just said some pretty heavy shit, I’m processing.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to the silence. Remus was so quick to fight me on everything; I take silence as the end of a discussion.”

“I’m only going to say this once, and I don’t want you to take offence, but I’m not him Dora, I never will be. So, if you’re looking to fill the void of him with me, it wont work, I’m nothing like him. He was a great guy in many ways, and I mourned his death, but I am nothing like him, and I cant be him for you, especially because, I would never, ever fucking need you to beg me to love you or want you. I would never fight for you to leave. I feel like if anything you’re worth a lifetime of begging to stay.”

I feel my eyes get hot and I know tears are forming there. How can this be a real Severus? And how sad is it that the rest of the world didn’t get to know him this way?

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s ok, sometimes silence isn’t a bad thing, sometimes it shows us how ok we are just being in each other’s company.”

I can feel it roll down my cheek, a single tear. 

“Dora, don’t cry.” He said, ever so gently, like it was an option I had, to just, not cry.

“I’m just so tired. Are you tired Sev?”

“Yeah, I’m really fucking tired too.” 

I think we both know we weren’t talking about sleep. I think we both knew we were tired of the chase. Tired of running. Tired of over thinking and tiptoeing. I think we were both really, really tired of being alone.

He stood up and held out his hand to me, “Come on Dora. Lets got to bed.” 

I took his hand and stood, intertwining my fingers in his, and he squeezed tight. And then lead the way. Only he didn’t even look at my room, not a pause, not a wavering moment of doubt, he just led me right by my room and straight to his and I knew that this changed everything. Tonight, changed everything. 

When we get into his room, we stand face to face, I let the blanket around my shoulders fall to the ground. Then he slipped his hands under my cardigan and ran his them down my arms as he dragged the sweater from my skin. His eyes intent on my body. His hands soaking in every inch of me. I can hear my heart in my ears, and I can see his, pounding through his chest. 

My sweater hit the floor in a soft thud and his hands gently take my hips and pull me in to close the gap between us. I take my hand and brush a tiny black curl of his hair behind his ear and he closes his eyes at this touch, so simple, but a million times what he needs, what I need. Simple, sweet, intimate, safe. 

His hands start to move, they trace up my sides, and graze my bare arms again, linger on my neck and my body quivers. They land on my face and his thumbs stroke under my eyes, wiping away any remnants of a tear. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He said, in a whisper, but his tone did not take away from his certainty. This was not a question. This was him telling me that tonight, we stop being tired, tonight we allow ourselves to come awake.

Then he leans in and presses his soft pink lips to mine, letting them linger there for a moment before he brushed them back and forth against mine lightly. He takes my bottom lip into his and I sense a hint of warmth from his tongue and I let out a coo. And my body goes lax. And then he gently kisses me again, rubs his lips to mine and pulls away. My eyes stay closed for a moment and when I open, I find him looking at me in a new light, with a new hunger and there is an understanding that happens in that moment. An understanding that this is exactly where we are both are supposed to be. And I take what might be the first breath I’ve taken since he took my hand on the porch. And he leads me to bed.

“Let’s get some rest.” He says, and I nod yes. Then just as he did the first night, he held me, without hesitation, he pulls me into him and I press my face into his chest, and we steady our pounding hearts together as we drift into sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

Severus

I wake up and the sun is making its way to rise and still in my arms and pressed into my body is Dora. Her head on my chest, her legs and mine a tangle, her feet still covered by my socks. I can see pink hair starting to stick to her forehead with sweat from the heat of my chest. She is beautiful. And she wants to be near me. And we are safe. And this new reality seems too good to be true. But its not. And I refuse to think that way. 

So instead I do what I’ve been longing to do, and I run my fingers gently over her nose, over the trail of freckles. I touch her ear, its tiny and perfectly shaped. And I can’t help myself I lean in and kiss the top of her head. 

If I kept this up, I will wake her. If I kept this up, I will drive myself crazy. It has been so long since I’ve been this close to a woman, and even longer since I wanted to be this close to a woman.

She stirs, her body half a top mine, and I can feel my heat growing. She rubs her hands over my chest and in her half-asleep state she realizes where she is, and before her eyes even open, a smile appears on her lips.

She blinks, and yawns, and it’s the most intimate thing I’ve experienced, watching her come to life in my arms after hours of uninterrupted sleep.

“You’re still here.” She says, mid yawn.

“I could say the same about you.”

“You look different.” She says.

“How’s that?”

“You don’t look grouchy.” She jokes, and I think, it’s too early for her shit, but I also love it.

“I could say something really corny, or really mean right now… I haven’t decided which road to take.” I say as I rub my hands up and down her back and she squirms when I graze the skin of her sides.

“Always take the high road. Tell me all the corny shit in your head.”

I take a sigh, “I don’t know if I have it in me.” I joke.

“I believe in you, tell me all of it. All of the corny things you are thinking while I lay in your arms.”

“Fine. But you better not make me regret this.”

“Oh, you know I’m going to! But I get the feeling you are going to tell me anyway.” She says and she props herself on her elbow, looking down on me, her body still pressed to mine, her leg still draped on mine and if she moves it over any further, she is going to know exactly what I am feeling and thinking. 

“I was going to say I don’t look grouchy because I have you here with me, and its hard to be anything but grateful to wake up next to you… there you have it, now go, roast me… make me regret it.” I say. Blushing at my admission but not regretting my truth.

“What was the mean thing you were going to say?” she pry’s.

“I already forgot.” I say, and she smiles and leans in and presses her lips to mine, and kisses me softly, and I want to pull her on top of me and press her into my body, I want to create a friction between us that I’m dying to feel. 

She kisses me again, and again, just soft kisses all around my lips, and then she takes my bottom lip into hers and sucks. I know if she doesn’t stop soon I might night be able to stop. Then she slips her tongue into my mouth and it caressed over mine and I roll over on to her and take her mouth completely. Her legs wrapped around my hips, I pressed myself onto her, letting her know what that kiss has done, what her body near me had done. A kiss so simple and sweet had turned me ravenous for her. 

I kissed her deep and she presses into my kiss, our mouths hungry for each other, our bodies rocking into each other. I know she can feel how hard I am against her, and when she slips her hands around my ass to thrust my body against hers I let out a growl and take her bottom lip and suck it and as I release I bite at the fullness of it and she moans, a soft purr. 

It makes me wild. 

“Fuck, Dora, we need to stop.” I managed to say between hot and hard kisses.

“No, fuck that, we need to keep going.” She says and I feel her hips buck up into me and pull me down where my lips crash into hers.

We are both completely strung out on eachother. We are wild and we have both been deprived this sort of touch for so long. It feels so good. It feels natural. But it also feels rushed. 

I roll off her onto my back and break all contact, my erection livid at this decision. Both of us panting.

“Dora, we need to slow the fuck down. I don’t want to do anything we regret.”

“I regret nothing… buuuut you are probably right,” she says, panting still, “Fuck your logical mind. I hate it right now.”

“Yeah, but you will appreciate it later.” I say as I try and tuck my hard on out of view by pulling the blanket up on my waist.

“Maybe I will appreciate it later, but you are going to be the one with blue balls all day sooooo, good luck with that.” She said, and then she leaned over and kissed me good and hard before she rolled off the bed and took her leave without looking back, but I knew she had a satisfied grin on her face. 

Brat.

Dora

My shower is long. And I keep putting the water from scolding hot to ice cold. Because I need to shock myself. I am officially on kissing and snuggling and making out terms with a man I only yesterday was avoiding. 

And I can’t stop smiling.

The incessant pull in my head to feel bad about this or wrong or guilty is being won over by butterflies in my stomach. 

Funny thing what a night’s sky can do for people. For us we found solace under the moon last night. For so many others out there, they may be finding fear in the darkness. Or restlessness in their sleep. Or maybe, they are taking a potion to avoid what the same moon can do to them if only it were full. At that thought my stomach churns. Remus.

He is always there, in my thoughts, I know he always will be. My first love. I can imagine as time goes on and I find my pace in this world without him I will think less of him. And that scares me. But also, sets me free.

I heard Severus head out to the workshop and I desperately want to go bug him, go peek, go press him against the woodwork bench and smother him with my body. But more then that, I want the surprise of his masterpiece. So, I decide on a book instead. Possibly a nap. But not until I update my journal.

_Entry 63_

_I am smiling today because I am happy. I start to feel guilt at this happiness but to not enjoy it would be to take this opportunity in vain._

_I have put a little weight on, my face has found its fullness and my body has come to looking like a woman’s. Soft curves and full breast. I feel satisfied when I see myself. And I want to satisfy him too._

_I have decided to embrace my desires. And while I could make a million reasons why I shouldn’t, especially with him, I don’t._

_Instead, I will indulge in them._

_Last night I slept soundly, no bad dreams. The sweat I awoke covered in was from the heat of a man’s body. The scent stuck in my nose is of his nighttime musk, a mix of fresh bar soap and lust, lust for me._

_Seems like only yesterday these entries were about survival, now they are of a pure animalistic nature._

_Survival comes in all forms. This is living proof._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I am surviving in a new fashion._

I close the journal and sit it on the bed side table, a cool breeze lingers in through the open window and I remember the way wind felt on my face upon a broom. I miss flying. I miss it and I hope one day I can do it again.

I mosey about and decided to be terrible and sneak around Severus room. He made the bed this morning and his bedside table was organized. I pick up a plaid shirt off the floor and laugh at how un-Snape-like this seems. But I guess he too had to wear muggle attire now. I think back to him in his perfectly pressed black robes, and how I loathed him. And how now, in his faded black jeans and white v-neck shirts I long for him. I feel heat flush over me as I imagine him out in the work shed all sweaty, his cheeks flushed pink. I put the plaid shirt to my nose and take a whiff. His scent is intoxicating. 

I put on the mix of music we like and take off my jeans, too dirty to wear in his bed, and damn it I hope Beth can get me some clothing. And then I take off my cardigan, as the mid-day heat rises, and I lay down to listen to the music, wearing only a black lace camisole that I accidently grabbed in my rush to pack extra underwear, and a pair of black boy shorts. Not the idea of sexy, mismatched and worn, but in his bed, on top of his covers, the scent of him in my nose I feel the most beautiful I have in years. 

And while my plan is to listen to the music and wait for him to return and find me here, I instead fall asleep as the very surroundings of him set my body both on fire and at ease.

I feel myself coming too from a deep sleep, and before I can even open my eyes, I can smell his body close, I can feel his mouth on my calves, tracing a mix of sweet kisses and hard hands up my legs. I feel all the heat of my body go directly to my face and my lower regions. I let out a nervous giggle and I can hear him let out a deep breath. 

I open my eyes and look down my body to see a beautiful pale figure hovering over me, damp dark hair a curtain to the face that is teasing my skin. His back is strong, and damp, I can smell his soap heavy along with a hint of steam lingering from a hot shower.

His long fingers push my legs up and slightly open and I feel my heart rate quicken as his kisses finally make their way to my inner thighs. I giggle again, I’m ticklish here, and I squirm a bit, his face lifts, a dark smile on it. He shakes his head as if in disbelief that I could be ticklish there, in such a sensual spot.

With his eyes on mine he slowly begins to kiss me there again, when I start to squirm, he stops, and shakes his head, as if saying no, don’t squirm. I feel myself take a deep breath and realize how bad I want his mouth there. I lay my head back flat on the bed and close my eyes to focus on his touch. I feel his mouth kiss again, at my calf, he is so slow and attentive. 

As his mouth moves lower, back to my inner thigh I feel my breath catch and my stomach clench and I hold back my urge to squirm and laugh. I can feel a smile on his lips, even as they are on my thighs, he is pleased. 

His hands run down my thighs and I feel his thumb brush over the thin cotton of my panties. I can’t help myself as my body reacts and I thrust up my hips just a hint, begging for more, begging for him to touch me there again. 

Only he doesn’t. 

His head lowers again, and his damp hair tickles my stomach as he kisses right above my panty line, and with his nose he pushes the bottom of my camisole up, exposing the smooth skin of my stomach, up above my navel. 

I sit up on my elbows to watch as his nose traces intricate details on my skin, accompanied with smooth kisses and followed up with the caress of his tongue. His mouth works across my skin and finds itself kissing at my panty line, his chin pushing the fabric lower as his mouth leaves a wet trail. 

I watch as he makes me unravel. As I come apart under his touch. I am a loosely knit sweater and he is pulling the string ever so slowly, making me come undone. 

His hands trace back up my legs and I feel both his thumbs swipe under the thin cotton of my panties and gently rub me there. My skin hot for him under the thin black material. Aching for him to touch me there again. 

I find myself breathing hard, the buildup so slow, yet leaving me panting. I want to yell at him to speed it up. But I also want him to take his time. His fingers run over my sweet spot, this time with intent, and pressure. And I thrust into touch again, but he forcefully kisses my stomach and hips back into the bead and a moan escapes me. I can feel his smile again, and a small hint of what could be a growl, or a laugh escapes him.

He is proud of himself.

And he should be.

His mouth starts to work its way down the soft black fabric, and I moan at the feel of his hot lips on me, so low, so close, I throb underneath this cotton. 

His kisses lower, his hands pressing my legs further to allow room for him there. And then he runs his nose up my sweetest spot, pressing into my throbbing lady parts, nuzzling into the exact spot on the cotton where my clit lies under, aching to be attended too. 

I let out a gasp and he presses again in an upward motion with his nose. My hips buck up and he presses them down again with his hands. He wants me under control. Under his control. 

His mouth finds the delicate skin exposed right at my panty line and my groin, and his fingers push the cotton away to expose my pink, aching lips. He takes the soft sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. And I gasp at the abruptness of my most private skin in his mouth. 

At my gasp he pulls back, his eyes heavy on mine, searching for the go ahead, seeking out an approval that is more definite than me leaving myself half naked on his bed asleep for him to find, wanting more than an invitation to look, but the words to be spoken that he can continue to touch.

He swiftly comes up to me, his body heavy on mine, his bulge rock hard under the tight black jeans. I bring his mouth to mine and I trace his lips with my tongue. Then kiss him deep. I can feel our hearts pounding against eachothers.

“Did you fall asleep wearing this for a reason?” he askes and slides his fingers under the thin strap on my shoulder.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you like it or not.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m pretty sure I just woke you up with my mouth all over your legs and thighs.”

“Yeah, so why are you up here? Get back down there and finish what you started.”

“Dora, I don’t want to rush this. I want you to be sure.”

His words cut deep. Because this is the same thing I heard over and over with Remus.

“Fine.” I say, and turn my head and look away, clearly annoyed by his lack of desire for me. Why doesn’t anyone want me as bad as I want them? I refuse to beg. Never again will I beg.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, bringing my face to meet him eye to eye.

“Yes.” I say.

“Why? Do you not agree that we should slow it down?”

“It’s fine. We can slow down. No problem.” I say, then I push at his shoulders, “Now can you get off me, your crushing me and to be honest I feel pretty fucking stupid now, laying here in the only nice pair of underwear I own.”

He rolls off me, and from the corner of my eye I can see disappointment and a hint of worry in his eyes. His hand reaches for me and he pulls me back into him before I can make a run for it.

“What did I do wrong? Please don’t leave here mad. I just don’t know what I did wrong. And I can’t do the back and forth anymore with you.”

I lay on my back looking up at the ceiling, denying him the contact he wanted when he pulled me back into him. His hand traces up and down my arm and he looks down on me.

“Talk to me Dora. I think I just fucked up right now and I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“It’s fine. We can go slow. I’m just annoyed that you teased me.”

“I didn’t mean too. I saw you laying there, and something came over me, I had to kiss you, I couldn’t stop. I’m sorry if I crossed a line, it just seemed like an invite.”

I sit up and look at him. “It was an invite. This isn’t my bed. I’m half naked. I didn’t stop you. So, what’s the god dammed problem Snape? What is it? Do I not turn you on enough? Am I not what you prefer? Is it my wild manner and my pink hair? Is my blood not pure enough? Or do you just not want me enough?”

“What? Where the fuck did that come from?”

“I’m not going to beg you to be with me. Or want me. I would rather go to bed horny every night and have all my lady parts shrivel up and die before I ever beg or try to convince someone to want me again. Even if it’s the only man I may ever see again. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect here, and that is what I did for years with Remus. I begged. And I tried to convince him he wanted me. And I won’t do that with you.”

“Fuck, you think you have to beg me to be with you?”

“It sure seems that way.” I say, pulling the blanket over my overly exposed legs.

“Dora I was trying to respect you. I have never wanted a woman so bad. For as long as I could remember women were a commodity to me, a reward, and I took what I wanted and I never wanted it much, but with you, fuck, the only thing harder than wanting you so bad, is trying to control myself and not fuck this up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t want Dora?”

“Don’t control yourself. If you want me, take me! Show me what it feels like to be wanted so bad you lose control. Show me what it feels like to be desired. Show me that even if I wasn’t the only woman you might see for the rest of eternity you would still fucking choose me.”

“Fuck. I would. I would choose you. Every damn time. I’m sorry for the past. And I’m sorry for _your_ past. But this is _our_ now. And I want you, I fucking want you.”

“Good. I want you too. I’m happy that’s settled.” I say, and start to get out of the bed, my stomach is empty and the air in the room is a little thick now.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting up on his knees.

“Dinner. I’m hungry.” I say, and when I go to sit up, I feel his hands grip my waist and pull me into him. 

Severus

I couldn’t let her go now. Not after that. If she wanted to be shown how bad I wanted her I refuse to let her go another second not knowing. 

I pulled her back onto the bed and I push her down to the mattress, pinning her with my weight. I thrust the bulge in my jeans into her and she squirms to get loose.

“Let me up, I’m hungry now, the mood is killed.”

“Fuck that. You are not going anywhere until I show you how bad I want you.”

“Severus, let me up.”

“Dora, let me kiss you one more time, and if you still want food more, then I’ll let you go.”

She lifted her head to meet me in a kiss and I pressed my fingers to her lips just in time to stop her. 

“Not that kind of kiss.” I said, and as I began to lower myself down her body I could here her gasp at the understanding of what I meant. 

Without reluctance I brought my lips to her and kissed the black cotton that covered her, while spreading her legs apart. I kissed hard at her clit covered in fabric and she did the little thrust of her hips she had done before and I felt my cock twitch. It had been so long, I might come at the smell of her lust.

I kissed down the fabric and found the sweet spot where I would eventually put my mouth. I kiss at this spot and can feel her heat under the panties, I can feel how wet she is. I take the thin black cotton in my mouth and pull it up off her skin and I can smell the aroma of her flood my nose, sweet and clean and floral. I let the elastic of the panties snap back to her skin from my mouth and she gasps. 

I slide my fingers under the elastic band and in one motion I pull her panties down and I fell my cheeks flush at the sight of her.

She looks up at the sudden stop in my pace, “What? Why did you stop? I’m not 100% convinced yet that I wouldn’t rather have dinner.”

“I just, I can’t tell you how many nights I thought about doing this and wondering…”

“What?”

“Fuck, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Spit it out Sev, I think I already know what your hinting at.”

“I guess I always wondered if you would be, pink down here too, like your hair, since its natural.”

I thought I maybe said to much, but then I saw the smile overtake her entire face and laughter erupted form her, loud and full.

“You wondered if the carpet matched the drapes Sev?”

“I did. I am fucking pleasantly surprised.”

“I’m happy you approve of my pink, manicured vagina.”

“Fuck. Ok, I’m going crazy to taste you, I bet you taste like cotton candy.” 

“I guess you should find out.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go eat dinner?”

“I want to be _your_ dinner.”

“Fuck, you know I have a sweet tooth.” I said and bent over her to kiss her neck. She giggled, but it quickly turned into a moan as I ran my finger over the pink patch of hair there and then dipped into her just a little. Wetting my fingers with her juices before I brought my fingers to my lips and sucked it away, “Appetizer.” I moaned at the taste of her. So, fucking sweet.

I needed to put my mouth on her most sensitive parts. Right now, I needed to make her come all over my face. Right now, I needed to make her beg for one thing and one thing only; for me not to stop.

I kissed the soft patch of hair; I had never been with a woman who didn’t shave themselves bald. I liked this nice little bit of hair, made her seem more feminine and it being pink only made me go wilder for her. 

I kiss down her pussy lips, that where pursed together, and wet. I take my fingers and spread her sweet little lips apart and the holy grail is before me, a perfect package of lips and clit and I wanted to suck and kiss it all.

I bring my mouth to her pink puckered hole and trace my tongue up, up, up and then finally, I dip my tongue into her and lap at her entrance. Her hips buck and I let them this time. I press in deeper and fuck her with my tongue. I let her ride my mouth as I lap at her sweet juices.

I kiss up her and find her clit, she whimpers at me leaving her empty, but I had unchartered territory to claim, to make mine. 

I press my nose into the tiny exposed bud, and she moans again, its raspy and pleading and my cock stirs at the sounds she makes. I suck at her clit and flick my tongue over it as I press a finger into her, she is so tight I might come.

I put all contact to a halt and look up at her, my eyes heavy lidded, a satisfied grin on my face, “Should we go have dinner then? Or has my kissed convinced you to stay.”

“Shut up and kiss me more.”

“Done.” I say. I use my fingers to open her up, her sex is pink and full and I lick, not missing any fold or lip unnoticed. I press my tongue into her again and press my face in deep and hard, her sex surrounding me. My thumb works her clit as I eat her like the dinner she only moments ago wanted to leave me for.

I can feel her sweet pussy start to pulse and clinch around me, I press my mouth to her clit and suck as I dive two fingers in deep and curl them into her, seeking out her secret spot. I suck harder and fuck her deep with my fingers and her hands find my hair and grip tight as she loses control and comes. 

Her pussy clinches around my fingers and I can feel her pounding against my mouth and I kiss until I have kissed every last nerve ending left. Until I feel her come undone, until I feel her relax completely and let out a long moan.

I pull my face away from her and kiss the pink hair on her mound on last time. Then I kiss her soft stomach. And I roll over beside her. 

“Are you still hungry?” I ask, laying there looking at the ceiling, giving her space to compose herself. Proud of the orgasm I gave her. Breathing in deep the scent of her sex all over my face and my hands and trying to convince my hard cock to calm down, it wouldn’t be getting any action tonight. 

“I don’t know what I am.” She laughs.

“You are fucking so sexy. That’s what you are.” I say and pull the blanket to cover her nakedness, to cover the pink patch of hair that will continue to drive me wild. 

“I’m not. You just haven’t gotten any in a while. Trust me, you will get over me quick I’m sure.” She says, I can hear the uncertainty in her voice, maybe doubt, and a hint of regret?

“I don’t think I will. And I would be happy to prove you wrong in every way possible.”

“The pink hair, its just shock value, you’re not really attracted to it. I bet in a week you will be begging me to shave it off.”

“Yet another thing I plan to prove you wrong on.”

She laughs. And her hand covers her face.

“Why are you covering your face? Your cheeks are flushed with sex and release, I want to enjoy it.”

Her hands move away from her face nervously tuck pink strands of hair behind her ears. “Are you hungry?” she asks, trying to divert the conversation.

“I just ate.” I say casually, and I press my mouth to her pronounced collar bone. “But I could go for dessert.” I say as my mouth finds her hard nipple under the soft black silk of her dainty top.

“Sev?”

“Huh?” I muzzle out as my teeth nipped at her nipple and my fingers trailed down her body.

“That was…” she gasped as my thumb grazed over her pussy lips, pushing them aside so I could lazily rub the overly sensitive bud.

“What Dora? Tell me.” I say and I dip a finger into her already soaked entrance.

“So good… Fuck Sev, you have to stop.”

“Why? I’m killing two birds with one stone. I’m proving that I still want you _and_ I’m about to have dessert.”

“Are you sure, you want to again so soon.” She says, the last word hiking in pitch as I bite harder at her nipple.

“Yes. Absolutely. I will be quick this time since you are already so sensitive. Then we can feed you.” I say as I begin to lower my mouth to her sex again.

“What about you?”

“Its not about me right now. This,” I say as I spread her open a lick from her ass hole to her clit slowly, “this is about me showing you what it feels like for someone to want you so bad they could get lost here,” I say and I push my tongue into her again. Her juices still there from her last orgasm, I lap at them, hungry for her, and unable to get enough of the taste of her. She was perfection. 

“Oh, fuuuuuck, Sev…” she moaned, and I pulled her ass apart and planted a kiss on her pink puckered hole. Licking and probing my tongue slightly into it as my fingers played her clit.

I could tell she was already so close, so I pressed two fingers dip and hard into her and worked her hard and fast this time. My mouth sucking and lapping her clit hard and fast until I heard her call out and buck under me. 

She rode my face as her orgasm peaked and as it came to an end her body quivered under me, and all around me. 

I pulled myself ontop of her and brought my lips to hers and kissed her deep. Letting her taste her sex on my mouth, taste her sweet come. 

“We should go get you fed.” I say at the sound of her stomach growling.

“Yeah, I wasn’t lying when I said I was hungry. But I’m happy you convinced me to stay…twice.” She said, and her smile was back on her face.

“I’m happy you let me convince you to stay.” I say, and I run my hand down her arm, “You are cold, let me get you something to wear.” I say and I hop out of bed, trying to discreetly hide my massive erection. 

I go to my dresser and pull out a pair of long johns and a sweatshirt that had some sort of muggle sports team on it and hand it to her.

I watch as she pulls it over her head and realizes she recognizes the logo, “One of the men that transferred me here wore a hat with this team on it.”

“Were they as unkind to you as they were to me?” I ask half not wanting to know the honest answer.

“They could have been worse,” she says and pulls the black long johns on, without her underwear and I watch as the last glimpse of her nakedness gets covered far too soon.

I grab myself a long sleeve black shirt and pull it over my head. “Its going to start getting cold around here.” I say.

“At least we will have each other to keep warm,” she says, “if I don’t starve to death first.”

I can feel my smile, and it feels good. It feels natural. “Come on,” I say holding out my hand to her, “I have a bag of jellybeans I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

“Severus, no jellybeans.”

I laugh, “I know, I’m fucking with you. Let’s make some dinner.”

Dora

Severus and I take up dancing around each other after our sexual encounter. I agree over the dinner he makes that I may have been a bit extreme in the moment and actually wouldn’t mind slowing down a few paces to get to know each other in other intimate ways, I’ve also just come, so it seems a lot easier in the moment to agree to such terms, he bamboozled me. So, we dance, only this time in stead of dancing to avoid each other, we dance together. 

As we pass each other in the hall we stop and press our bodies together, our hearts pound against one another and he gently kisses my nose. 

At meals we pass each other a plate or bowl and let fingers linger a second longer than need be.

When he comes in from working out back, I greet him with ice water, and I kiss his salty lips. 

And at night when we fall asleep, it’s in each other’s arms. And although it feels highly intimate and sexual, we have yet to cross any new lines. Its as if my need for him to speed things up, showed me how nice it could be to slow things down. 

And while I feel bad I haven’t “returned the favor” so to speak, I can honestly say I don’t think he minds.

We fill the time exploring each other in new ways. Ways that I never realized screamed intimacy.

Like doing a puzzle with someone. I never realized how much is revealed by the way someone puts together a puzzle. I for instance just wing it. I start by picking the prettiest parts of the puzzle, the parts laced with color and I go for it. While Sev is strategic. He started on the outer walls of the puzzle creating a border. Then he separated all the pieces into color piles. Oh, and don’t get me started on what it reveals about someone’s patience. The first time I clumsily dropped a piece on the floor he joked about spanking me if I lost a piece, which oddly enough only turned me on. The second and third time I bumped the table, or my oversized sweater sleeve grazed his pile of blues and took several down he began to literally scowl at me, which also seemingly turned me on. But let me tell you, if at the end of the puzzle there is a missing piece, I might start to fear for my life. 

I’m sure doing the puzzle with Sev revealed to him many things about myself, like my struggle to focus on something for long periods of time. My inability to sit still. And my lack of control around him when he was all focused and slightly grouchy. I usually ended up straddling him and forcing him to make out with me. He grumbles about it at first, but he caves, and I get the kisses I want.

I honestly didn’t realize how structured he is. At everything. His routines are more set-in stone. And he is so meticulous about everything. Like, I had no idea he kept the food at rations before I got there and my snacky Hufflepuff nature threw him off entirely, now we may starve to death. No, really, if they don’t come soon with food we could be in trouble. Because I don’t know how much longer I can eat plan oatmeal and canned fish and chicken on crackers. But mostly because if someone doesn’t get this man some jellybeans he might murder me. Withdrawal is a real thing. 

We’ve also been exploring sleeping with someone for comfort, not because its expected or for sex, which I’m sure we will get there eventually, but we are sleeping together because its comforting and we enjoy each other’s company and because we sleep better. 

Each night after I get ready for bed, which can consist of a shower, shave, lotion, brushed teeth and pajamas, or it can consist of none of the above and me literally stripping down to undies and one of his shirts and hopping into bed while he does his nightly routine, that never wavers. He will shower after a long day of working outside, he will shower even if he doesn’t work outside, and then he brushes his teeth and he always wears fresh pajamas, and I want to envy his selection of flannel bottoms, but I also can’t envy them, since I basically wear them as I please any way. And then he gets two glasses of water, one for him, one for me, and he shuts off the light and climbs in next to me.

Some nights we find ourselves talking for hours. I have learned so much about him I never would have guessed. And I spill my truths as well. We laugh. A lot. His laugh was so rare that the sound of it still catches my breath. I think I’m obsessed with it. Its not a big grand laugh, it low and muted, like a chuckle being held back. But it’s so sexy, making him laugh almost turns me on as much as his body against mine.

He asks me lots of questions, like;

_“Did you like being called Tonks? Before it became… well, hard to hear?”_

_“I did when I was younger, it felt fitting, I was so clumsy, it felt like a name you called a clumsy girl. But when I got older and I matured, it made me feel…less feminine? And instead of asking people to stop calling me it, so I could feel more mature and lady like, I just kept up the act, always being silly, and forever clumsy, and I just never let my feminine side show. Which sucked. Because underneath all the pink hair and freckles, that make me seem so young and wild, I have always been dying to be seen in a sexual way.”_

_“I feel lucky I got told to never call you Tonks.”_

_“Why is that?”_

_“Because I call you Dora, and you are absolutely fucking sexy as Dora.”_

While I find myself asking him questions like:

_“Would you ever fart in front of me Sev?”_

_“What? That’s disgusting Dora. Where do you come up with this shit?”_

_“It’s really not a hard question to answer. Do you think you could ever see yourself comfortable enough around me to fart, if you needed to fart?”_

_“Ok, I know you won’t stop until I answer so, no, I would not fart in front of you because, I do not fart. I am perfect, and I do nothing of the disgusting nature.”_

_“So, you don’t jerk off?”_

_“I do._

_“I thought you don’t do anything of the disgusting nature?”_

_“Ouch, you think me jerking off is disgusting?”_

_“Actually, you are right there, I kinda like the idea of you doing that…maybe one day I can watch.”_

_“No, I wouldn’t fart in front of you.”_

_“You always deflect.”_

_“Because you are difficult.”_

_“Ouch, you think I’m difficult, I find myself rather humorous.”_

_“Actually, you are right there, you are kinda funny, now come over here and kiss me.”_

_“Ahhhh, fart talk turns you on?”_

_“You are a brat… and a tease.”_

And that’s usually where I lose him in our conversations, when I take it a step to far. But I know it makes him laugh deep down inside. He secretly loves my brash sense of humor. And after something like that he may deny me kisses for a short period of time, but he always comes around, and I am highly enjoying learning these things about him.

Some nights we don’t talk at all, we kiss. For hours. The stubble on his face making my lips raw. His fingers memorize me, tracing over my eyes, nose, ears. Holding my hands and intertwining his fingers in mine as many ways as he can find possible. I love to kiss his chest, smooth and hard. He loves to nip at my shoulders. We are mastering kissing slowly. We are mastering touching gently. We are mastering composure. We will eventually lose control.

Severus

“Dora?”

“Yeah?” she says lazily, her head on my naked chest, her lips kissing my lightly. This is how we spend our nights. Tangled together. Kissing, talking, sleeping, laughing.

“If they don’t come soon we could be in trouble.”

“I know.” She says softly. The kisses stop.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for Sev? I’m not dead. I haven’t starved yet. They will come. And after the last three days eating from tin cans, I hope they bring another pizza.”

“I’m sorry I brought you here without knowing we would be safe. Without knowing it would always be secure.”

“So far so good Sev. We are ok. We have stuff to eat. And our bodies can go days without anything at all. And we have fresh water. And we have each other.”

“We do have each other.” I say and run my hand down her back that is covered in one of my plan black shirts.

“Exactly, although, I don’t know if I will be sweet enough for you to eat me, and cannibalism is not really on my list of to do’s so, we might die of hunger after all.”

I laugh, here I thought she was being sappy, leave it to her to make a joke.

“Are you not worried in the slightest?”

“No Sev. I’m not. Before you brought me here, I was worried all the time. This chapter of my life I’m living stress free and allowing what comes to come.”

I smile at this, at her optimism. At me being enough for her. I smile until I hear her stomach growl. And then I can’t smile.

Her hand darts down to her stomach and she tenses. 

“That was bad timing on my stomachs part. I swear I’m not even hungry right now.”

“Fuck, I wish there was something I could do.” I say, my body tense, I want to push her away and sulk at my inability to feed her and protect her. But instead I pull her close.

“There is something you can do Sev.” She says, her mouth kissing my neck. “Take my mind off it. Take _our_ mind off it.” 

She sits up and straddles my lap, pulling me up so my face is to hers. The moon is lighting the room just enough that I can see her face and that she is hungry in more than one way. 

She kisses me softly and slowly rocks her body against mine, creating a perfect friction. She lifts her arms up above her head and I know what she wants, I reach for the hem of her shirt and as I lift it up over her body, I let my hands trace their way up the skin underneath. 

Her breasts are small, and her nipples are a deep pink. I stop everything and stare. She takes the shirt from my hands and tosses it to the floor, freeing my hands. But its not my hands that long to touch her there. It’s my mouth.

I bring my lips to her neck and kiss, trail down to her collar bones, so beautiful and sharp, so feminine. I kiss them and suck at her there. I kiss lower still, until I find her beautiful nipples and I take one into my mouth, sucking at it, she moans and rocks against me harder, my cock aching at days and days of teasing and denying myself. 

I kneed her breast in my hands and my fingers pinch at her nipples, soft and gentle, then a little harder, and she moans again. I press my mouth to her neck and I bite her gently, and her legs clench round my hips, squeezing at my erection, this only makes me take her soft flesh in my mouth again and bite harder, this time she moans louder and my hands grip around her luscious ass cheeks and pull her into my body harder. 

Her lips find mine and she kisses me hard, are teeth clacking together at the force of her and I use my hands to guide her sex up and down my cotton covered erection. Her nails grip into my back and I let out a growl. I flip her over onto her back and pull the pink polka dot underwear off in one shot. My fingers graze over her sex and I can feel how wet she is for me, how hot she is, how fucking tight and throbbing she is. 

I press one finger into her slowly, but I press in deep and draw it out stroking her inner walls, and I can feel her body tremble under me.

“Dora, you are so sexy. I fucking can’t wait any longer.” I say. As I grind my erection into her naked body.

“I want you Sev. I want you so bad.” 

I don’t hesitate. I pull off my pajama bottoms and expose myself to her. Her eyes trace down my body and I remain up on my knees, allowing her to take it in. To explore my body with her eyes. So many nights we have longed for this. One of us always staying strong, to hold off. And now, naked in front of here I felt like a man that she not only wanted and needed, but a man that she knew and accepted, despite what she learned about me in the previous days and weeks.

“You are glorious.” She said, and at that I brought myself down to her body and our skin met once and for all. 

Her legs spread apart to make room for me and my erection felt the wet of her and jerked at the touch. 

“Dora, you are everything. I have never wanted anything more in my life.”

“One day, if they don’t come soon you will want food more than me, so for now, let us forget.” She said, and I knew she might be right, but now, right now, this was all I desired.

I used my hand and lined my erection up to her entrance, my tip instantly wet and hot with her. Her legs spread wider still and I pressed in just slightly, just enough to tell that she was tight and just enough to tell I would not last long.

Her hands gripped at my ass, encouraging me to fill her all the way, her breathing heavy in anticipation. 

I took a deep breath, and I sank into her completely. 

She let out a gasp mixed with pain and pleasure. She was so tight, I thought I would come in one thrust. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, my dick deep inside her, her body trembling.

“Yes…” she moaned, “more, give me more.” She begged.

I pulled my cock out slowly moaning at the feel of her walls tight around me and then I pushed in hard and deep, and stilled myself inside her again. Her legs wrapped around my back and I ground in deeper still as she let out a rasp of a cry. Pleasure. 

I began to pull out again and then pushed in deep and hard. Finding my rhythm. I began to pump inside of her, going deep and grinding into her clit. Her legs gripping my tight I began to move faster and her fingers grab the sheets, bracing herself, I press in hard and fast. I can hear my body begin to slap against hers. I move faster and I can feel her thrusting her ass off the bed pressing up into me still. 

I pull out and slam back into her, taking her as my own. I have no control. I want to stretch her tight pussy around me and I show her desire, show her what our bodies are like joined together. I want to make her come all over me. 

I move faster and harder, keeping my tempo, our bodies slick with sweat, the sound of our skin smacking, I am not going to last much longer, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t come first. I want to make her feel good, and I know she does, I can feel her body quivering and her pussy begin to clench around me, only making her feel that much tighter. I press in deep and hit her sweet spot. I begin rock inside her, making sure I grind into her clit while I also hit her sweetest spot deep inside, she rocks into me, and her face goes wild, her nails grip my back and she lets out a sound of release as she comes.

I can feel her pulsating as I begin to drive into her again. I look into her wild eyes filled with orgasm and she gazes deep into mine and I pull out and thrust in one last hard time and I lose it completely. 

She rocks her hips against me as I spill inside her. And together our climax comes to an end.

I feel my arms go shaky and I collapse on her body, my dick still half hard, inside her, along with my come. 

“Are you ok Dora?” I ask, as I roll off of her and my now softening cock slides out of her. I grab the blanket and cover her naked body, even though I want to stare at it all night, I don’t want her to get cold.

“I’m… I… I just came really fucking hard Sev. That was, wow. I needed that.”

I let out laugh. And I get up to get her a towel to clean off and it hits me.

“Fuck, Dora, no protection, no spell or magic…” I say panicked.

Her smile fades, “It’s ok Sev. I can’t bare children anymore. My womb was cursed when my Aunt killed my child.”

I rush to her and kiss her. “I’m so sorry Dor. I didn’t mean it in any way… I just… Im so sorry Dora.” I kiss her and take her into my arms. She lets me. So, I hold her a minute longer. “Let me go get you a towel, do you need anything else?” I ask.

“A pizza?” she jokes, and my heart comes back to life, her humor always assures me she is ok. We are ok. 

“How about peaches from a can and some stale oyster crackers?” I ask.

“A feast!” she says jotting her fist into the air and I smile, but inside my worry returns. 

Dora

I awake. Well rested. Wearing only one of his shirts and a pair of purple bikini underwear. My body wrapped around pale skin. I can tell he is asleep still; his breathing is heavy, and his arms are loose around me. I take his right hand and look at the dark mark on his wrist and I can’t believe this is my fate. I can’t believe this is the hand I want to hold and the skin I want to kiss for however long this life ridden with war allows me. 

I bring the soft skin of his wrist to my mouth and kiss the dark ink there, partly to show myself it doesn’t bother me, partly to show him. 

I suddenly miss his company, even though he is physically under me and surrounding me, I miss him deeper than I’ve ever missed anyone before. 

I start to kiss his chest. Small pecks, easing him awake. I can feel his heart rate quicken under my lips and his breath catches and I glance up to see a smile on his face. 

“Good morning.” I say, kissing still, moving up his chest to his neck that is scruffy under my mouth. 

“This might be my new favorite way to wake up.” He says and pulls me further on top of him, and I can feel he is as excited as I am this morning to be with each other.

“What used to be your favorite way to wake up?” I ask, kissing his ear and right below it.

“Alone.” He says and then pulls the blankets up and over our heads, like children do when trying to hide.

“I promise, you wont ever miss waking up alone again, Sev.” I say, pressing my lips to his, kissing him deep despite the obvious morning breath. 

He kisses me back and his hands pull the shirt I’m wearing over my head in one motion. Our kiss grows hungry and I pull the blanket from over our heads, letting the light expose my now very naked breast and I grind myself into his huge morning boner, sitting upright, letting him take me in. His eyes are heavy and full of lust. I love him this way, wanting me, seeing me. 

I sit up on my knees and he catches on, his hands fly to his pajama pants and he yanks them down, all his glory springs to life, so hard and thick and beautiful, I have never seen a more magnificent cock.

Hungry to have him in me again, I pull my underwear over to the side and start to slide his cock inside me, he groans as I lower myself onto his tip, wetting it with my sex, then pulling up. Then lowering myself even deeper. He stretches me wide as I sink completely on to him. I don’t move, I just grind against him. Forcing him to go as deep as he can. 

His hands find my hips and he pulls my body to rock. His fingers tight on my ass cheeks, gripping, squeezing, I begin to move. I begin to ride him and grind my clit onto him and swirl my hips around. He groans as my body moves different ways. I keep him guessing. Keep him wanting more. His hands grow tighter on my ass, his nails and digging into me, grinding me hard against him, I start to ride him hard, and fast, my tits dancing with my bodies motion. The friction on his body on my clit makes me begin to pulsate and grip around his cock. His face tightens and his breathing is rough. 

Knowing he is close sets me off, I sink deep onto him, hard, and grind myself onto him, his cock hitting me deep and I lose it. I clench around him, my legs tighten, and I feel his hips buck up into mine as he feels me with hot shots of his come. 

As my climax comes to an end, I lean down to him and press my forehead to his and kiss him slowly and the sensation returns to my toes and as his body begins to relax. I can feel him going soft inside me and I let him slide out of me and feel the head of come drip down my thigh and strange thoughts flood my mind, I was to dip my hand there and lick it from my fingers. I want to rub it all over my body. I want to feel it hot on my chest. I want to have it spill down my throat. 

My arms give out and I collapse on his chest. We are both still breathing heavily. 

“Dora, you can wake me up like that anytime you want.” He finally says, breaking our blissed-out silence.

My heart races at the thought of that, morning sex, he likes it. Remus was always gone, or slept too late, or said no, because he felt gross or morning breath or what ever reason he could come up with to get me to leave him alone, to get out of fucking me.

“I should have brushed my teeth first.” I say, suddenly feeling self-conscious from my memories of Remus’s hang ups. 

And as if reading my mind, Severus pulls my mouth to his and kisses me deep, using his lips to open mine wide as he lapped at my mouth, sucking and kissing and licking me like I was a breakfast fest. Sucking at my bottom lips, then nipping it before, stopping.

“I’ll have you any way I can get Dora.”

I kiss him again, softly, and my stomach lets out a mighty growl. I feel his lips turn into a scowl.

“Its ok Sev. I’m fine.”

“We maybe have two more days left of food Dora. I should have rationed better. I’m sorry. Maybe we should refrain… from…”

“What? Sex?”

“Yes, maybe we shouldn’t burn our extra calories, until we know for certain we have some food.”

“Let’s say it doesn’t ever come, and we starve to death, at least we will starve to death happy.”

“They will come. They will be here soon. They have never not come in all my months here. It will be fine.”

“Ok. I believe it, now you need to believe it.” I say, kissing him again, because I can, and because I want to, and because he wants me too.

“I have an idea.” He says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, come take a quick shower with me. We can wash away the hunger.” 

“A quick shower?” I ask, incredulously.

“Ok, maybe not too quick, I wouldn’t mind kissing you some under the hot water, washing you from head to toe. Making you nice and clean.”

“Sounds like the perfect start to our day.” I say.

“No, the perfect start was you waking me with kisses.” He says and adjusts himself in his pajamas as he gets out of bed, “I’ll start the water, come join me when you are ready.”

He goes into his attached bathroom and I hear the water start, I wait a minute to let the water warm up and give him a chance to miss me when I hear a pounding at the front door. 

I jump to my feet and throw his shirt on and his pajama bottoms from last night. 

I burst into the bathroom and he is already wrapping a towel around his naked body, my stomach stirs at the sight of him even in this situation.

“The door! Someone’s at the door!!” I shout.

“I heard.” He says and pushes past me, “You stay here, I’ll go make sure it’s safe.”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“Like hell, stay here until I call for you. I won’t let anything happen to you. You are all I have.” He says and leans in to kiss my cheek. 

I just stand there taken aback as he pushes by me wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips and shuts the door behind himself.

He wants to protect me. I never let Remus protect me. I never took no for an answer. This time around maybe I can learn a thing or two from my past.

I press my ear to the door and I can hear low talking, but I’m almost certain I can make out a women’s voice, possibly Beth, then I hear footsteps headed to the room, I jump back and grab a heavy vase off the bed side table, just in case, and prepare myself for the worst case scenario.

The door opens slowly, “Dor, its ok, its Beth and Luther.” 

I sit the vase down and he smiles, I just shrug, “What? I wanted to be prepared, constant vigilance.” I say, “You should probably put some clothes on.”

“You stole mine.” He says, looking me up and down and heads to the dresser and pulls out jeans and a shirt, and pulls them on, commando, I feel my self flush at this, “We are taking that shower when they leave.” He says and kisses me one last time before we head to greet our guests.

Snape

As we walk into the kitchen Beth and Luther are already bringing in boxes of food. More than normal. And sitting on the table is a bag of food that smells amazing.

I can’t help but notice Dora in all of my clothing, my shirt, my pants, will they notice? If they did notice would she care? Or is being with me something she is ok with in private, but would never admit in the real world, where other people with opinions live.

Beth notices us and heads straight to hug Dora, “How are you dear? I know its been far too long between drop offs, but long story short, we have been being trailed. One of the seven safe houses I see over was compromised and people lost their lives. Its bad out there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I feel like I should fight. I feel like I shouldn’t be here safe.” Dora says, and my stomach drops, because of course she should be here, with Bellatrix being her aunt and the target on her back, she has a number one kill order by the dark lord himself. She absolutely should not be out there fighting any longer.

Also, I can’t lose her.

“Dora, there is something else.” Beth says. And I can see panic in Dora’s eyes, so I take her by the hand and lead her to sit at the kitchen table, “Your mother…”

“My mother what? Tell me!”

“She is alive.”

“What? She’s alive? How did you… where did you… how can you be sure?”

“She has been working in the underground. Her body was retrieved from the blast at the train station and the witch that took her in and brought her back to health runs part of the underground. Your mom is still fighting.”

I see Dora’s face deep in thought, but her silence is what scares me. I know what she is thinking, and selfishly I know its only a matter of time now that I lose her, and I know, if I lose her, she will die.

Because I know how bad her Aunt wants her dead. I know because I sat next to her at the table where we would discuss the biggest threat to the Dark Lord, and Dora’s name, had become number one after Mad Eye, Potter, Lupin and Dumbledore were dead. And, they were all dead.

“Dora, if you would like to write her a letter I could try and get it to her. It would have to be hidden messages, maybe things only the two of you would know, so no one is compromised further, but I would be willing to do that for you.” Beth says, and Dora stays silent, biting her inner lip, I’ve never seen her do this before and it worries me.

I walk to her and squat in front of her, take her hands in mine, they are clammy and they don’t grip my hands back, “Dora, do you want to go lay down, or go think or even write that letter? Do you need some space?” I ask, trying not to be too obvious that I love her. Trying not to let on too much that I want nothing more than to hold her and tell her to breathe and that it will be ok.

She finally looks up at me, her face is blank. Then she looks up at the bag on the table, “Is this food for us?” she asks absently.

“All yours,” Beth says with a sad smile, “I hope you like Chinese.”

“I love anything right now that does not come from a can.” She says, and gestures for me to sit.

I take the seat next to her and she pulls out the white take out boxes of food. She opens one and the smell of ginger fills my nose, I’m starving. I reach for a different box and open it and its full of beef broccoli, and without thinking like a wild animal I dip my finger in and pull out a piece of the beef and toss it into my mouth.

Beth brings us both a plate and scoop piles of different types of Chinese food onto them, orange chicken, and fried rice, chow mien and egg rolls. Dora puts red hot sauce on everything, and I leave mine as is as we devour the food on our plates in a strange silence.

Halfway through what we served ourselves we start to slow down, “I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach.” Dora says.

“Me too.” I say, and I look deep into her eyes. The food was a nice distraction for her, a way to avoid continuing the conversation about her mother. But we were done eating now and dread fills me.

I take our plates and put what we didn’t eat back into the takeout boxes and save it for later. We went to long without food to waste now.

Dora stands, “I actually have a little list of things that I would love for you to try and get, I know its not easy, but, if you could try I would greatly appreciate it.” She says, and Beth nods. Then she leaves for her room.

Beth continues to unpack boxes as Luther brings them in. I begin to help too, unpacking things and taking mental notes of what came in this shipment.

“Seems like you and Dora are getting along better?” Beth asks, with no hint that she knows just how good we are getting along.

“Yeah, we had to fight through some shit. And we didn’t talk for many days. But the only thing worse then talking to your enemy is sitting in silence, so she came around.” I say.

“Severus, you are not the enemy, you never were, don’t give Voldermort that much power over you. You are free of him.”

I nod, but not because I agree, more because I don’t want to talk about it. 

“You brought a lot more than usual.” I say, hinting at the massive number of boxes scattered across the kitchens black and white checkerboard tile. 

“Severus, I don’t want to scare you, but to be in the dark could harm you.” She said, taking a deep breath as I nod her on, “Its bad out there. Its so bad I don’t know when I will be back. If I’ll be back. If…if I’ll even survive. The war has escalated. There is this new sense of kill or be killed. The muggles are fighting beside us now. Magic secrecy is almost gone.”

“Beth, what should we do, Dora and I?”

“Stay. Stay put.” She said firmly.

“How can we stay when we, I, know what’s going on?”  


“You can and will stay because you would be a distraction, and we don’t need that. We need clear heads in the fight. Dora would have too many people, her mother included, trying to watch her back, and you, you would have enemy and ally wanding for you! It took months for Dora to trust you, and there is no time to explain and gain trust when you have a hundred wands pointing at you from every angle. So, your place is here, with Dora, keeping her safe, and distracted…”

She said that last part incredulously, did she suspect? Or was she hinting at the possibility. “Fine. Done. But its not me that needs convincing. And I refuse to keep information from Dora, no lies, I wont lie anymore, it’s not an option.”

“That’s fine. And Severus...”

“Yeah?”

“I brought you the things you requested; they were not easy to find but I’m happy you are doing this. Building something to keep you occupied and what you are doing for Dora, you are a better man than you know.”

“No, I know what kind of man I am, and its not anything to write home about, but I also know she is worth it. Trying to be better. So, thank you, for finding it.”

I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Dora, standing with a letter in her hands, folded tight, like it had been opened and closed a million times already. “Finding what?” she asks.

“Beth was able to get me a few things, things that could help us in the long run.”

“Oh, I see,” she walks and hands Beth the note, “Its frivolous stuff really, makes me feel stupid asking, knowing my mom is alive and fighting, but the warm clothes, those I can use.”

“I brought a suitcase with some clothes for you Dora, I wasn’t sure your size but there is warm clothing and some feminine things that I thought you might like, but I will take a look at the list and see if I missed anything, for next time…”

“Tell her,” I say, “tell her about next time.”

Dora looks between the two of us, “Tell me what about next time?”

“Dora the war is bad and there might not be a next time…Not for a while anyway.”

“I figured as much. What with all the boxes.”

“Dora, how are you feeling, you just found out your mother is alive, how is this sitting with you?” Beth asks, softly.

“How is it sitting with me? I want to leave, now! I want to go and fight. I want to throw myself beside her and take them all down. I want to hug her and cry. I want to scream… but more than anything, I am just thankful to know, for certain that she is alive… for now. Because worse than thinking your loved one is dead, is not knowing. So thank you.”

Hearing her voice tremble, seeing her eyes well, the room became just Dora and I and I took her into my arms. Her body lax in mine. I kiss the top of her head and whisper, “I’m here. I got you.” And I don’t let her go until the room reappears and I hear Beth clear her throat.

We break our embrace, and step apart to look at Beth, standing there a smirk between endearment and shock on her face.

“So, before I go, a few things; first, if something were to happen, worst case scenario I am killed, the barrier will fall, and you will be able to leave, but you will have to walk miles, to the north to hit civilization. If I am to be captured, I will release the barrier as well. But it is really coming down to the wire here. And anything is possible. So, expect the worst and plan for it. I wish there were more I could do. But I can’t promise you anything. So, ration. And Merlin be with us all.”

And then she took us both in an embrace and kissed the top of Dora’s head and gave me a firm squeeze of the shoulder and she was gone. Possibly forever. 

Dora

As we watched Beth and Luther leave the barrier comes down around us and I felt two things; I felt trapped and I felt the warmth of his hand take mine. And my knees went weak. It was all too much. My mother alive. The war at an all time high. The possibility of safety removed. My want to leave. My need to stay. The longing for the comfort of my mother’s eyes. The present comfort I find in his arms.

It was all too much.

“Dora?” he asks, watching me intently as my focus on the barrier glazes over with tears and my chest grows heavy and claustrophobic.

“Yeah Sev?” I say, trying to steady my breathing, panic setting in that I’m trapped again.

“What can I do?” he asks.

There’s nothing. Not at this moment.

“Be honest with me.” I say.

“Always.” He says. And I believe him.

I drop down to the porch step and have a seat. It’s become _our_ place. Our place for hard discussions. Our place for sweet kisses. Our place for star gazing. Our place for silent reflections. Our place for honest answers.

He sits next to me and I feel his fingers brush pale pink hair behind my ear. So gentle. So attentive. 

“Would you think less of me if I told you I want to leave, at all cost. Knowing I would risk it all. Knowing I could end up killed. Knowing it may cause the people around me to be killed?”

“How could I? Half of my life was spent fighting for the wrong side. The other half was spent faking that I was fighting for the wrong side. My life is full of me causing a snowball of death and destruction. I have no place judging anyone Dorr.”

I stay silent at this. I can’t argue with his candor.

He keeps his gaze on me. I keep my gaze on the filmy haze of the barrier. And out to the North. Miles and miles of nothing. Our escape route. Our death sentence is all around us. Safety is only in the moments you can escape inside you mind long enough to forget you are fated.

“Sev?” I ask again, shakily, a cool tear trails my warm cheek. His finger traces it away before it can fall from my face, “Sev, would you…” my voice cracks, “would you think less of me if I didn’t want to leave at all? Not even a little? Would you think I’m selfish and a coward that when I found out my mother was alive the only thing that scared me was that I might have to fake wanting to leave, out of pride, when all I want is to stay here safe with you?”

He pulls me into his arms, my tears are falling too fast for him to catch them one by one, so instead they fall to the hot dirt under our feet, never making a mark as the sun dries them before they can be seen.

“Dora, how could I ever think less of you for that? I can tell you firsthand, as a man that will need years and years of proving himself, that staying safe, might be the most noble and selfless thing you can do right now. Everyday I think giving my life in the fight would be the best and only sacrifice I could make to prove that I’m not who they think I am. To prove to myself that I am not who _I_ think I am. But I stay. I stay here safe. While they die. While they fight. While they clean up the mess I attributed to. I stay here and the only thing I can do is wait. For it to end. All I can do is be here with you, someone in the same place as me, stuck, and wanting to fight. All I can do is stay here and love you. Love you every fucking day that I have air, and food and shelter. That’s all I can do. And the worst part; it gotten easy. Being here. It has gotten so fucking easy. And that makes my stomach twist and turn sometimes. But it’s gotten easy because while out there I have a cause worth dying for, in here, under this barrier, trapped, I have something worth living for.”

I can’t breathe at his admission. I try to speak and all I get out is his name.

“Sev…” I say, but he cuts me off, and takes my face into his hands, he steadies his breathing, lowers his voice.

“Maybe its selfish, but I can’t lose you. And if I let you leave. If I let you fight you _will_ die. And if you die, I die too. So, lets fight here, in this place. Let’s fight for each other. Let’s fight to have each other to live for Dora.”

“Okay Sev. Let’s fight.” I say in barley a whisper.

“I love you.” He says.

“I know.” I say back, “Thank you for making that the one thing I _don’t_ have to fight for anymore.”

“Never, nothing has come more natural to me.” He says and stands and takes my hands to pull me up. “Let’s go.” he leads me into the house.

Dora

_Entry 67_

_Mother is alive._

_And a little piece of me is dead._

_The part of me that longs for the fight. It’s dead._

_I used to write in the journal to document everything, my legacy, and a memoir of the war, so later we could learn from it, if we win._

_But that’s not my job. Its not my job to be so immersed in the hurt and the pain that I forget to live._

_So, this is my final entry. For now. I can’t promise I won’t need a safe place again._

_But now, in this moment, I am safe. I’ve found my place. I am loved._

_So, for now, I am going to be in the moment._

_And that’s okay. I think mom would be proud. I think she would want this._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks_

_And I’m signing off._

Snape

Its strange really, the way the dust settled. Weeks ago I thought I would lose her. I thought she would run full steam ahead into the war, along side her mother. 

I would have let her.

And that makes me question myself as her lover. As the man that loves her.

I would have let her choose and if she chose to leave it would have haunted me. Just the idea of letting her go without a fight haunts my memory. Knowing she always fought for him, begged him, I feel its my duty to always fight for her and beg of her what ever it is that needs begging for. Its my duty to show her she can rest now and let someone else do the fighting and begging for once.

I have been in the work shed a lot. Finishing my project. With Beth bringing me the few things I needed I will be able to show Dora it tonight. I know its been driving her crazy not knowing. So, to drive her a little crazier, because I have grown to love her frantic inability to not know everything, I keep telling her its almost done, and not giving her a date.

She has been spending most of her time outside too. Beth, being the smart woman she is brought us everything we needed to start a full garden. A variety of fruits and veggies to plant. If only we had magic to grow them along, we might have food before we starve to death.

It’s hard.

Not thinking that way.

Its hard because before I wouldn’t have cared. But now, now I care. 

The garden has been so good for her. She didn’t have something to call her own here and that has become her project. It has given her purpose. Although, you can tell she has never gardened a day in her life. She fumbles about, but she makes it happen. And there is more upside to it for me than I would have imagined.

The first being the obvious, the idea of food growing here for survival. Also, the joy it brings Dora. She has her silly pep back in her step these days. She smiles a lot. And her nose and cheeks are full of color from the sun hitting them all day. It makes her freckles pop. 

I am crazy for her freckles.

The second being less obvious. I love the garden because at the end of the day, when I’m covered in saw dust and sweat, she meets me at the porch, covered in dirt and a hard days work. 

Most days we just sit there, in our spot. A spot that has become our place for many things, reflection and jokes, laughing about what an ass I was at Hogwarts and how far away that feels. Me incessantly teasing her about her inability to not spill something at the dinner table. 

It’s become our spot for holding hands. Mine ruff now, and calloused. Her’s remaining soft despite her days with a shovel and rake. That’s Dora though, so tough, but always so soft. 

It has become our place for where our soft touches start, when exhaustion hits and she leans into me. My hands massaging her shoulders. My lips kissing her salty neck before I lead her to a hot shower so I can wash away the day from her. The water at our feet often tinged with the day’s dirt, going down the drain, a reminder that we lived. A reminder that tomorrow we get to do it all over again. 

Build and plant and talk and kiss and fuck or make love depending on the mood and shower. And wash it away. Repeat.

This is our luxury.

We both decided not to take it for granted.

We both decided not to take it in vain.

And we haven’t. 

I finish up in the shed, the sun is setting, and I need to do the final touches to the project before sun set, so I hurry to the garden. 

I find Dora on hands and knees, dirt to her elbows. She goes to wipe sweat from her forehead and smears the dirt across her face. She curses under her breath and I watch as she then lifts her shirt to wipe the smudge and ends up with dirt in her hair.

I can’t help myself. 

I quietly watch her struggle against herself in the battle of dirt and Dora, until I laugh. She is helpless sometimes. And I love that. 

She turns quickly to face me, one eye closed and watering, I can only assume she got dirt in it as well, and a scowl on her face.

“I hate when you do that.” She says.

I only shrug.

“I hate when you are all stealthy. Its creepy.”

“I have been known to be a rather creepy guy.” I joke.

“Yeah, no kidding, creep.” She stands dusting off her knees. She looks beautiful. I love her like this. 

“Your only mad because you couldn’t sneak up on me if you tried, and you have tried several times… and failed.”

“Well, at least I can take pride in knowing I’m not a creep.”

“You are covered in dirt.” I say, helping her dust off her ass, because she definitely needs help there. Also, she has an amazingly perfect ass.

At this she wraps her filthy arms around my shoulders and kisses me softly. “I missed you today.” She says in my ear.

“How can you miss me when I’m right here Dora?” I know what she means. I get it. But I ask anyway. Because I want to hear it. Because I’m a glutton for her.

“I was just gardening, and I kept thinking of funny things and I realized I want to share all the funny things with you. And I was just a mess with the dirt today. And I just kept thinking, if Sev could see this he would give me such a hard time, and it just made me miss you. Even if it meant you making fun of me while I half garden, half drown in dirt and seeds.”

“Then I have good news for you.” I say.

“Oh?” she asks.

“I’m done. With my project. So, from now on if you miss me while gardening you can just come get me and I’ll come make fun of you all you want.” I say.

“Wait, so I get to see the finished project now!”

“Well, no. Not now, now. Let’s shower and you can make dinner while I do one last thing to it before I show you!”

“Was that your way of getting me to cook you dinner?”

“No, but now that you mention it, it worked out well.”

“Sneaky creep. That’s what you are.” She jokes and kisses me again; I can taste earth on her mouth. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up.” I say. Because her earthy kisses have me suddenly wanting more.

Dora

We have this routine. When we shower. And we always shower together now. 

We both squeeze into the tiny bathroom. I start the water and he undresses. I feel I am robbed by this as I don’t get to watch him take his clothes off, but I settle because when he is good and naked, he undresses me. 

It crazy how he can make everything seem sensual. How he can make stripping away my sweaty, filthy clothes feel so romantic. He lets long fingers find perfect placement on my skin as he slides them off. His face close to my neck as he leans in to unbutton my jeans. His breath warm on my skin as he lowers himself down my naked breast to remove my panties. How he sometimes nuzzles his face into my sex and kisses at my skin there before he stands back up. Us both fully naked. The room filling with steam.

I get in first and let the water dose my pink curls. He comes in after letting the water smooth out a black curtain around his face. The contrast of us is stark, we make a beautiful wet picture together.

Today, as the water pours between us, I can tell we will rush through the next part of our shower routine. The part where he slowly washes my every inch. The part where I do the same.

He lathers up the soap, “Close your eyes.” He says in my ear and I do, I trust him. He washes my dirt covered face carefully. “You’re a bloody mess Dora.” He laughs, and I feel the water carry the suds down my body and to the drain. 

His hands lather again, and he massages the soap over my shoulders, his hands strong. Down my back and around my waist. Up to my breast where he kneads them in his soapy hands, his fingers pinching my nipples, making them hard. This makes me throb, in my core. 

He lathers again, but this time he quickly washes his face, his body, his hard cock. I reach down and help him, taking him in my hands, stroking his soapy erection. He lets out a groan. It makes me ache for him. 

He lathers the soap one last time and slips his hands between my legs. I prop one leg on the bathtub ledge allowing room for the lather of his fingers to clean me and clean me well.

They trace between my legs, caressing me and cleaning me. Trailing up to my ass where he gently applies more pressure, stimulating me even more. 

The water rinses us both free of the soap. He uses his hands to bring more water to my lady parts to help the soap along. 

We are clean. 

But we are far from finished.

He pushes wet pink hair from my face and as the water pours between our lips he kisses me deep. The hot water intruding into our mouths, the mix of tongues and water working together as we kiss. 

His hands find my breast and he grips them, firm, sending currents to my already throbbing core. He pinches my nipples again, this time harder, and I moan at the teeter of pain and pleasure.

His mouth finds my nipples and he sucks at them, bringing his teeth to nip. His mouth working my nipples, his hand finding its place between my legs.

I lift my leg again for him and he pushes a finger deep within me. Curling it with my body, pushing in hard to hit my sweet spot deep within. He pulls out his finger and presses two in, in return; I moan.

He drops to his knees. Black hair masking his face. He pushes my legs further apart and plunges her face into me. His mouth on my sex. Hard and wanting. Pressing his tongue into me deep, burrowing his nose against my clit. 

His hands find my ass and pushes my cheeks apart, making more room for his face. 

Then his mouth on my clit, he begins to suck and pull there. Pressure and the flicking of his tongue bringing my body to a peak. He presses two fingers deep inside me and works me hard as a writhe against his mouth. 

My knees trembling, I grip onto the wall for balance as I begin to climax. I clench around his fingers as I pulse at my orgasm. His mouth still sucking at my clit as I cum hard. His hands hold me steady.

As I start to relax against his face, he gently kisses my mound and stands up to greet my mouth under the water once again. Holding me tight in my pre orgasm splendor. 

Knees week. Toes slightly numb. Smile huge.

“I loved that.” I say, of course I did.

He smirks under our kiss. He knows I did as well.

Snape

We make love after our shower and with the sun setting fast I rush to get dressed after so I can get a head start on setting up the surprise. She opts to throw together a soup for dinner as the nights are getting cold. And I rush to the shed.

I gather all the parts and pieces I need to finalize the surprise but as I walk past the kitchen window, I peek in to make sure she is not snooping. 

She’s not. She is dancing and singing as she chops the last of the carrots. 

I linger at the window for a split second longer than I wanted. I stand there and take her in. Sliding around on the old tile floor in a pair of my socks, singing a Weird Sisters song. Weird Sisters, I always found them overrated. She is only wearing a deep green oversized pullover sweater. If I’m lucky there will be no panties on underneath. 

I smile and head to the porch. When I get there, I can smell the soup from inside and my stomach rumbles, but I get to work. The sun is almost gone now, and I need what’s left of the light to finish.

Dora

“I can hear you, ya creep.”

I turn around and Sev is standing in the doorframe of the kitchen. His hands in the pockets of some blue jeans. His hair is pulled back low on the back of his head, wisps of his dark hair have escaped while he was doing what ever it is he needed to do to wrap up the surprise. 

I’m going to die laughing if he built coffins for us.

Also, when did my humor get so dark?

I want to make a death eater joke right now, but I don’t want to kill the mood, so I push the coffin joke aside and walk to the handsome man making an old barn style kitchen look sexy and mysterious.

“I wasn’t trying to be quiet.” He says. “I wonder if I’ll ever tire watching you.”

I step on tip toes and kiss his lips. He wraps his arms loosely around me.

“That’s not creepy...” I joke and he picks me up and gathers me into his arms, “Sev!” I shout as he carries me to the front door, “Put me down.”

“No. I can’t wait any longer. I have to show you.”

“I can walk you know!” I say, excepting that he is not letting me down so I stop fighting it and relax into his arms.

“I know. Just go with it.”

“Its like you are carrying me over the threshold of our home, only you are carrying me outside.” I joke.

“Is that a marriage joke?” he stops and looks me dead on.

“I think it was.” I realize. We have never talked about anything like that. Outside of saying I love you; I think for the most part we dance around conversations about our future at all. The future is too bleak. We stay in the present. It’s easier that way.

He starts to walk again and stops at the front door. 

He puts me down and takes my hand.

“Close your eyes until I say.”

I do.

Then he guides me out the door. Cool air hits my bare skin and I shiver.

“Keep them closed.”

I do.

I hear him switch a flip inside and then he is next to me again. I don’t know why but my eyes are closed so tight.

“Ok Dora, open your eyes.”

I slowly open them. 

He grabs my hand and squeezes tight. His eyes on my face. I can feel his gaze.

My eyes glitter as I open them to twinkling lights wrapping around the chains of a beautiful wooden swing that is hanging on our porch, in our place. 

I take it in. My eyes skating over his beautiful woodwork when I notice something in the corner of the seat. I walk over to the swing leaving Sev behind and I see what it says:

Severus & Dora

I turn to him and his eyes are wide, begging me to speak to say anything. I wrap my arms around him and whisper in his ear, “This is beautiful Sev.”

He whispers back, “Not as beautiful as you.” And kisses me.

The twinkle lights give off a glow that makes me feel like we are in a romantic story. 

“Does it work?” I ask, breaking the mood, like I do, and he laughs.

“I don’t know, I honestly didn’t try it yet.”

“Should we?” I ask.

“Yeah, on the count of three.” He says, and we back up to the swing.

“This better not be a death trap.” I joke.

He only shakes his head at my poor timing of humor and counts, “One, two, three!”

We both sit, and the chains give a bit of squeak. We look at eachother, almost waiting for it to fall, but it doesn’t. We break out in laughter and then… we swing.

Severus

“It didn’t fall.” I say, as we start to swing.

“No, it sure didn’t. Its perfect Sev. We are never leaving this porch now.”

“Dora, I have something else for you…” I say, reaching to my back pocket.

She looks at me in shock. And that makes me smile.

“Two surprises in one night? What did I do to deserve you?” she asks.

“You believed me.” I say, and she leans in and kisses my cheek.

“I don’t have anything to give you. Now I feel bad. I didn’t even know we were doing some sort of gift exchange.”

I want to tell her she gave me everything already the day she trusted me. The day she let me into her heart. But I don’t. Instead I hand her the little parcel that I wrapped with old sudoku puzzles she had finished.

“Sev…”

“Dora?”

“I love you.” She says. And I’ve heard it before. But it feels different tonight. It feels like a gift.

“I know.” I say back, using her tricks on her, “Now, can you open the damn gift. The anticipation is killing me.”

“Okay, okay.”

Dora

I tear away the old puzzle pages. My heart stops.

Bacon and egg socks.

Bacon and egg socks!

“I know they don’t move or sizzle, and they don’t smell like breakfast. They won’t remind you to wash them and they will never dance around on your feet. But I hope when you are having a rough day here, and you will have plenty. I hope you can look at these socks and think of your dad, and how he always wanted to remind you to be happy. And think of you mother, who is still fighting…and…think of Remus, who loved you… who died fighting. I want you to look at these ridiculous socks and find happiness. I want you to look at these socks and know, that even under this barrier, here with me, we can find happiness.” 

I can feel the heat on my cheeks as the tears start to fall. 

I can feel the swing come to a stop.

I can feel warm hands pull me into a safe place against a pounding heart and a comforting shoulder.

I can feel a soft kiss to the top of my head, then my cheek.

And then… I can feel as the barrier lifts. 

A gust of new air rushes in, more bitter and raw. Crisp and fragrant of the outside world. Outside of our bubble.

I look at Severus and his eyes are transfixed on the haze melting away. Then I look back out at what used to be our prison bars, now gone. Expecting to see a car. Expecting to see Beth or Luther. Expecting to see green lights flashing and the end. Expecting to see anything. 

We sit in shock on our swing.

We sit in silence.

I’ve never heard silence like this before.

It’s the kind of silence that even animals’ sense.

This is the sound of nothing.

“Dora, do you see that.” He finally says. It seems to echo through the great wide open. 

“Yeah. Where did it go?”

“I don’t know.”

“What should we do?” I ask.

“What do you want to do?”

I look around at our new found freedom. I take in our ability to go anywhere in the world at this very moment. I look at the man next to me, uncertainty written on his face.

So, I lean down and slip off the oversized black socks of his that cover my toes and tangle them in a ball.

I pull the egg and bacon socks onto my feet and stand up and reach for Severus’ hand.

“I want to go home.” I say. And he smiles. He knows.

“Me too.” He says.

So, we do.

We turn on the spot, and walk back into the little farmhouse together, hand in hand. 

I’m Nymphadora Tonks. And this is Home now.

Severus

I wake up and the sun is making its way to rise and still in my arms and pressed into my body is Dora. Her head on my chest, her legs and mine a tangle, her feet still covered by my socks. I can see pink hair starting to stick to her forehead with sweat from the heat of my chest. She is beautiful. And she wants to be near me. And we are safe. And this new reality seems too good to be true. But its not. And I refuse to think that way. 

So instead I do what I’ve been longing to do, and I run my fingers gently over her nose, over the trail of freckles. I touch her ear, its tiny and perfectly shaped. And I can’t help myself I lean in and kiss the top of her head. 

If I kept this up, I will wake her. If I kept this up, I will drive myself crazy. It has been so long since I’ve been this close to a woman, and even longer since I wanted to be this close to a woman.

She stirs, her body half a top mine, and I can feel my heat growing. She rubs her hands over my chest and in her half-asleep state she realizes where she is, and before her eyes even open, a smile appears on her lips.

She blinks, and yawns, and it’s the most intimate thing I’ve experienced, watching her come to life in my arms after hours of uninterrupted sleep.

“You’re still here.” She says, mid yawn.

“I could say the same about you.”

“You look different.” She says.

“How’s that?”

“You don’t look grouchy.” She jokes, and I think, it’s too early for her shit, but I also love it.

“I could say something really corny, or really mean right now… I haven’t decided which road to take.” I say as I rub my hands up and down her back and she squirms when I graze the skin of her sides.

“Always take the high road. Tell me all the corny shit in your head.”

I take a sigh, “I don’t know if I have it in me.” I joke.

“I believe in you, tell me all of it. All of the corny things you are thinking while I lay in your arms.”

“Fine. But you better not make me regret this.”

“Oh, you know I’m going to! But I get the feeling you are going to tell me anyway.” She says and she props herself on her elbow, looking down on me, her body still pressed to mine, her leg still draped on mine and if she moves it over any further, she is going to know exactly what I am feeling and thinking. 

“I was going to say I don’t look grouchy because I have you here with me, and its hard to be anything but grateful to wake up next to you… there you have it, now go, roast me… make me regret it.” I say. Blushing at my admission but not regretting my truth.

“What was the mean thing you were going to say?” she pry’s.

“I already forgot.” I say, and she smiles and leans in and presses her lips to mine, and kisses me softly, and I want to pull her on top of me and press her into my body, I want to create a friction between us that I’m dying to feel. 

She kisses me again, and again, just soft kisses all around my lips, and then she takes my bottom lip into hers and sucks. I know if she doesn’t stop soon I might night be able to stop. Then she slips her tongue into my mouth and it caressed over mine and I roll over on to her and take her mouth completely. Her legs wrapped around my hips, I pressed myself onto her, letting her know what that kiss has done, what her body near me had done. A kiss so simple and sweet had turned me ravenous for her. 

I kissed her deep and she presses into my kiss, our mouths hungry for each other, our bodies rocking into each other. I know she can feel how hard I am against her, and when she slips her hands around my ass to thrust my body against hers I let out a growl and take her bottom lip and suck it and as I release I bite at the fullness of it and she moans, a soft purr. 

It makes me wild. 

“Fuck, Dora, we need to stop.” I managed to say between hot and hard kisses.

“No, fuck that, we need to keep going.” She says and I feel her hips buck up into me and pull me down where my lips crash into hers.

We are both completely strung out on eachother. We are wild and we have both been deprived this sort of touch for so long. It feels so good. It feels natural. But it also feels rushed. 

I roll off her onto my back and break all contact, my erection livid at this decision. Both of us panting.

“Dora, we need to slow the fuck down. I don’t want to do anything we regret.”

“I regret nothing… buuuut you are probably right,” she says, panting still, “Fuck your logical mind. I hate it right now.”

“Yeah, but you will appreciate it later.” I say as I try and tuck my hard on out of view by pulling the blanket up on my waist.

“Maybe I will appreciate it later, but you are going to be the one with blue balls all day sooooo, good luck with that.” She said, and then she leaned over and kissed me good and hard before she rolled off the bed and took her leave without looking back, but I knew she had a satisfied grin on her face. 

Brat.

Dora

My shower is long. And I keep putting the water from scolding hot to ice cold. Because I need to shock myself. I am officially on kissing and snuggling and making out terms with a man I only yesterday was avoiding. 

And I can’t stop smiling.

The incessant pull in my head to feel bad about this or wrong or guilty is being won over by butterflies in my stomach. 

Funny thing what a night’s sky can do for people. For us we found solace under the moon last night. For so many others out there, they may be finding fear in the darkness. Or restlessness in their sleep. Or maybe, they are taking a potion to avoid what the same moon can do to them if only it were full. At that thought my stomach churns. Remus.

He is always there, in my thoughts, I know he always will be. My first love. I can imagine as time goes on and I find my pace in this world without him I will think less of him. And that scares me. But also, sets me free.

I heard Severus head out to the workshop and I desperately want to go bug him, go peek, go press him against the woodwork bench and smother him with my body. But more then that, I want the surprise of his masterpiece. So, I decide on a book instead. Possibly a nap. But not until I update my journal.

_Entry 63_

_I am smiling today because I am happy. I start to feel guilt at this happiness but to not enjoy it would be to take this opportunity in vain._

_I have put a little weight on, my face has found its fullness and my body has come to looking like a woman’s. Soft curves and full breast. I feel satisfied when I see myself. And I want to satisfy him too._

_I have decided to embrace my desires. And while I could make a million reasons why I shouldn’t, especially with him, I don’t._

_Instead, I will indulge in them._

_Last night I slept soundly, no bad dreams. The sweat I awoke covered in was from the heat of a man’s body. The scent stuck in my nose is of his nighttime musk, a mix of fresh bar soap and lust, lust for me._

_Seems like only yesterday these entries were about survival, now they are of a pure animalistic nature._

_Survival comes in all forms. This is living proof._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks._

_And I am surviving in a new fashion._

I close the journal and sit it on the bed side table, a cool breeze lingers in through the open window and I remember the way wind felt on my face upon a broom. I miss flying. I miss it and I hope one day I can do it again.

I mosey about and decided to be terrible and sneak around Severus room. He made the bed this morning and his bedside table was organized. I pick up a plaid shirt off the floor and laugh at how un-Snape-like this seems. But I guess he too had to wear muggle attire now. I think back to him in his perfectly pressed black robes, and how I loathed him. And how now, in his faded black jeans and white v-neck shirts I long for him. I feel heat flush over me as I imagine him out in the work shed all sweaty, his cheeks flushed pink. I put the plaid shirt to my nose and take a whiff. His scent is intoxicating. 

I put on the mix of music we like and take off my jeans, too dirty to wear in his bed, and damn it I hope Beth can get me some clothing. And then I take off my cardigan, as the mid-day heat rises, and I lay down to listen to the music, wearing only a black lace camisole that I accidently grabbed in my rush to pack extra underwear, and a pair of black boy shorts. Not the idea of sexy, mismatched and worn, but in his bed, on top of his covers, the scent of him in my nose I feel the most beautiful I have in years. 

And while my plan is to listen to the music and wait for him to return and find me here, I instead fall asleep as the very surroundings of him set my body both on fire and at ease.

I feel myself coming too from a deep sleep, and before I can even open my eyes, I can smell his body close, I can feel his mouth on my calves, tracing a mix of sweet kisses and hard hands up my legs. I feel all the heat of my body go directly to my face and my lower regions. I let out a nervous giggle and I can hear him let out a deep breath. 

I open my eyes and look down my body to see a beautiful pale figure hovering over me, damp dark hair a curtain to the face that is teasing my skin. His back is strong, and damp, I can smell his soap heavy along with a hint of steam lingering from a hot shower.

His long fingers push my legs up and slightly open and I feel my heart rate quicken as his kisses finally make their way to my inner thighs. I giggle again, I’m ticklish here, and I squirm a bit, his face lifts, a dark smile on it. He shakes his head as if in disbelief that I could be ticklish there, in such a sensual spot.

With his eyes on mine he slowly begins to kiss me there again, when I start to squirm, he stops, and shakes his head, as if saying no, don’t squirm. I feel myself take a deep breath and realize how bad I want his mouth there. I lay my head back flat on the bed and close my eyes to focus on his touch. I feel his mouth kiss again, at my calf, he is so slow and attentive. 

As his mouth moves lower, back to my inner thigh I feel my breath catch and my stomach clench and I hold back my urge to squirm and laugh. I can feel a smile on his lips, even as they are on my thighs, he is pleased. 

His hands run down my thighs and I feel his thumb brush over the thin cotton of my panties. I can’t help myself as my body reacts and I thrust up my hips just a hint, begging for more, begging for him to touch me there again. 

Only he doesn’t. 

His head lowers again, and his damp hair tickles my stomach as he kisses right above my panty line, and with his nose he pushes the bottom of my camisole up, exposing the smooth skin of my stomach, up above my navel. 

I sit up on my elbows to watch as his nose traces intricate details on my skin, accompanied with smooth kisses and followed up with the caress of his tongue. His mouth works across my skin and finds itself kissing at my panty line, his chin pushing the fabric lower as his mouth leaves a wet trail. 

I watch as he makes me unravel. As I come apart under his touch. I am a loosely knit sweater and he is pulling the string ever so slowly, making me come undone. 

His hands trace back up my legs and I feel both his thumbs swipe under the thin cotton of my panties and gently rub me there. My skin hot for him under the thin black material. Aching for him to touch me there again. 

I find myself breathing hard, the buildup so slow, yet leaving me panting. I want to yell at him to speed it up. But I also want him to take his time. His fingers run over my sweet spot, this time with intent, and pressure. And I thrust into touch again, but he forcefully kisses my stomach and hips back into the bead and a moan escapes me. I can feel his smile again, and a small hint of what could be a growl, or a laugh escapes him.

He is proud of himself.

And he should be.

His mouth starts to work its way down the soft black fabric, and I moan at the feel of his hot lips on me, so low, so close, I throb underneath this cotton. 

His kisses lower, his hands pressing my legs further to allow room for him there. And then he runs his nose up my sweetest spot, pressing into my throbbing lady parts, nuzzling into the exact spot on the cotton where my clit lies under, aching to be attended too. 

I let out a gasp and he presses again in an upward motion with his nose. My hips buck up and he presses them down again with his hands. He wants me under control. Under his control. 

His mouth finds the delicate skin exposed right at my panty line and my groin, and his fingers push the cotton away to expose my pink, aching lips. He takes the soft sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. And I gasp at the abruptness of my most private skin in his mouth. 

At my gasp he pulls back, his eyes heavy on mine, searching for the go ahead, seeking out an approval that is more definite than me leaving myself half naked on his bed asleep for him to find, wanting more than an invitation to look, but the words to be spoken that he can continue to touch.

He swiftly comes up to me, his body heavy on mine, his bulge rock hard under the tight black jeans. I bring his mouth to mine and I trace his lips with my tongue. Then kiss him deep. I can feel our hearts pounding against eachothers.

“Did you fall asleep wearing this for a reason?” he askes and slides his fingers under the thin strap on my shoulder.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you like it or not.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m pretty sure I just woke you up with my mouth all over your legs and thighs.”

“Yeah, so why are you up here? Get back down there and finish what you started.”

“Dora, I don’t want to rush this. I want you to be sure.”

His words cut deep. Because this is the same thing I heard over and over with Remus.

“Fine.” I say, and turn my head and look away, clearly annoyed by his lack of desire for me. Why doesn’t anyone want me as bad as I want them? I refuse to beg. Never again will I beg.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, bringing my face to meet him eye to eye.

“Yes.” I say.

“Why? Do you not agree that we should slow it down?”

“It’s fine. We can slow down. No problem.” I say, then I push at his shoulders, “Now can you get off me, your crushing me and to be honest I feel pretty fucking stupid now, laying here in the only nice pair of underwear I own.”

He rolls off me, and from the corner of my eye I can see disappointment and a hint of worry in his eyes. His hand reaches for me and he pulls me back into him before I can make a run for it.

“What did I do wrong? Please don’t leave here mad. I just don’t know what I did wrong. And I can’t do the back and forth anymore with you.”

I lay on my back looking up at the ceiling, denying him the contact he wanted when he pulled me back into him. His hand traces up and down my arm and he looks down on me.

“Talk to me Dora. I think I just fucked up right now and I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“It’s fine. We can go slow. I’m just annoyed that you teased me.”

“I didn’t mean too. I saw you laying there, and something came over me, I had to kiss you, I couldn’t stop. I’m sorry if I crossed a line, it just seemed like an invite.”

I sit up and look at him. “It was an invite. This isn’t my bed. I’m half naked. I didn’t stop you. So, what’s the god dammed problem Snape? What is it? Do I not turn you on enough? Am I not what you prefer? Is it my wild manner and my pink hair? Is my blood not pure enough? Or do you just not want me enough?”

“What? Where the fuck did that come from?”

“I’m not going to beg you to be with me. Or want me. I would rather go to bed horny every night and have all my lady parts shrivel up and die before I ever beg or try to convince someone to want me again. Even if it’s the only man I may ever see again. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect here, and that is what I did for years with Remus. I begged. And I tried to convince him he wanted me. And I won’t do that with you.”

“Fuck, you think you have to beg me to be with you?”

“It sure seems that way.” I say, pulling the blanket over my overly exposed legs.

“Dora I was trying to respect you. I have never wanted a woman so bad. For as long as I could remember women were a commodity to me, a reward, and I took what I wanted and I never wanted it much, but with you, fuck, the only thing harder than wanting you so bad, is trying to control myself and not fuck this up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t want Dora?”

“Don’t control yourself. If you want me, take me! Show me what it feels like to be wanted so bad you lose control. Show me what it feels like to be desired. Show me that even if I wasn’t the only woman you might see for the rest of eternity you would still fucking choose me.”

“Fuck. I would. I would choose you. Every damn time. I’m sorry for the past. And I’m sorry for _your_ past. But this is _our_ now. And I want you, I fucking want you.”

“Good. I want you too. I’m happy that’s settled.” I say, and start to get out of the bed, my stomach is empty and the air in the room is a little thick now.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting up on his knees.

“Dinner. I’m hungry.” I say, and when I go to sit up, I feel his hands grip my waist and pull me into him. 

Severus

I couldn’t let her go now. Not after that. If she wanted to be shown how bad I wanted her I refuse to let her go another second not knowing. 

I pulled her back onto the bed and I push her down to the mattress, pinning her with my weight. I thrust the bulge in my jeans into her and she squirms to get loose.

“Let me up, I’m hungry now, the mood is killed.”

“Fuck that. You are not going anywhere until I show you how bad I want you.”

“Severus, let me up.”

“Dora, let me kiss you one more time, and if you still want food more, then I’ll let you go.”

She lifted her head to meet me in a kiss and I pressed my fingers to her lips just in time to stop her. 

“Not that kind of kiss.” I said, and as I began to lower myself down her body I could here her gasp at the understanding of what I meant. 

Without reluctance I brought my lips to her and kissed the black cotton that covered her, while spreading her legs apart. I kissed hard at her clit covered in fabric and she did the little thrust of her hips she had done before and I felt my cock twitch. It had been so long, I might come at the smell of her lust.

I kissed down the fabric and found the sweet spot where I would eventually put my mouth. I kiss at this spot and can feel her heat under the panties, I can feel how wet she is. I take the thin black cotton in my mouth and pull it up off her skin and I can smell the aroma of her flood my nose, sweet and clean and floral. I let the elastic of the panties snap back to her skin from my mouth and she gasps. 

I slide my fingers under the elastic band and in one motion I pull her panties down and I fell my cheeks flush at the sight of her.

She looks up at the sudden stop in my pace, “What? Why did you stop? I’m not 100% convinced yet that I wouldn’t rather have dinner.”

“I just, I can’t tell you how many nights I thought about doing this and wondering…”

“What?”

“Fuck, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Spit it out Sev, I think I already know what your hinting at.”

“I guess I always wondered if you would be, pink down here too, like your hair, since its natural.”

I thought I maybe said to much, but then I saw the smile overtake her entire face and laughter erupted form her, loud and full.

“You wondered if the carpet matched the drapes Sev?”

“I did. I am fucking pleasantly surprised.”

“I’m happy you approve of my pink, manicured vagina.”

“Fuck. Ok, I’m going crazy to taste you, I bet you taste like cotton candy.” 

“I guess you should find out.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go eat dinner?”

“I want to be _your_ dinner.”

“Fuck, you know I have a sweet tooth.” I said and bent over her to kiss her neck. She giggled, but it quickly turned into a moan as I ran my finger over the pink patch of hair there and then dipped into her just a little. Wetting my fingers with her juices before I brought my fingers to my lips and sucked it away, “Appetizer.” I moaned at the taste of her. So, fucking sweet.

I needed to put my mouth on her most sensitive parts. Right now, I needed to make her come all over my face. Right now, I needed to make her beg for one thing and one thing only; for me not to stop.

I kissed the soft patch of hair; I had never been with a woman who didn’t shave themselves bald. I liked this nice little bit of hair, made her seem more feminine and it being pink only made me go wilder for her. 

I kiss down her pussy lips, that where pursed together, and wet. I take my fingers and spread her sweet little lips apart and the holy grail is before me, a perfect package of lips and clit and I wanted to suck and kiss it all.

I bring my mouth to her pink puckered hole and trace my tongue up, up, up and then finally, I dip my tongue into her and lap at her entrance. Her hips buck and I let them this time. I press in deeper and fuck her with my tongue. I let her ride my mouth as I lap at her sweet juices.

I kiss up her and find her clit, she whimpers at me leaving her empty, but I had unchartered territory to claim, to make mine. 

I press my nose into the tiny exposed bud, and she moans again, its raspy and pleading and my cock stirs at the sounds she makes. I suck at her clit and flick my tongue over it as I press a finger into her, she is so tight I might come.

I put all contact to a halt and look up at her, my eyes heavy lidded, a satisfied grin on my face, “Should we go have dinner then? Or has my kissed convinced you to stay.”

“Shut up and kiss me more.”

“Done.” I say. I use my fingers to open her up, her sex is pink and full and I lick, not missing any fold or lip unnoticed. I press my tongue into her again and press my face in deep and hard, her sex surrounding me. My thumb works her clit as I eat her like the dinner she only moments ago wanted to leave me for.

I can feel her sweet pussy start to pulse and clinch around me, I press my mouth to her clit and suck as I dive two fingers in deep and curl them into her, seeking out her secret spot. I suck harder and fuck her deep with my fingers and her hands find my hair and grip tight as she loses control and comes. 

Her pussy clinches around my fingers and I can feel her pounding against my mouth and I kiss until I have kissed every last nerve ending left. Until I feel her come undone, until I feel her relax completely and let out a long moan.

I pull my face away from her and kiss the pink hair on her mound on last time. Then I kiss her soft stomach. And I roll over beside her. 

“Are you still hungry?” I ask, laying there looking at the ceiling, giving her space to compose herself. Proud of the orgasm I gave her. Breathing in deep the scent of her sex all over my face and my hands and trying to convince my hard cock to calm down, it wouldn’t be getting any action tonight. 

“I don’t know what I am.” She laughs.

“You are fucking so sexy. That’s what you are.” I say and pull the blanket to cover her nakedness, to cover the pink patch of hair that will continue to drive me wild. 

“I’m not. You just haven’t gotten any in a while. Trust me, you will get over me quick I’m sure.” She says, I can hear the uncertainty in her voice, maybe doubt, and a hint of regret?

“I don’t think I will. And I would be happy to prove you wrong in every way possible.”

“The pink hair, its just shock value, you’re not really attracted to it. I bet in a week you will be begging me to shave it off.”

“Yet another thing I plan to prove you wrong on.”

She laughs. And her hand covers her face.

“Why are you covering your face? Your cheeks are flushed with sex and release, I want to enjoy it.”

Her hands move away from her face nervously tuck pink strands of hair behind her ears. “Are you hungry?” she asks, trying to divert the conversation.

“I just ate.” I say casually, and I press my mouth to her pronounced collar bone. “But I could go for dessert.” I say as my mouth finds her hard nipple under the soft black silk of her dainty top.

“Sev?”

“Huh?” I muzzle out as my teeth nipped at her nipple and my fingers trailed down her body.

“That was…” she gasped as my thumb grazed over her pussy lips, pushing them aside so I could lazily rub the overly sensitive bud.

“What Dora? Tell me.” I say and I dip a finger into her already soaked entrance.

“So good… Fuck Sev, you have to stop.”

“Why? I’m killing two birds with one stone. I’m proving that I still want you _and_ I’m about to have dessert.”

“Are you sure, you want to again so soon.” She says, the last word hiking in pitch as I bite harder at her nipple.

“Yes. Absolutely. I will be quick this time since you are already so sensitive. Then we can feed you.” I say as I begin to lower my mouth to her sex again.

“What about you?”

“Its not about me right now. This,” I say as I spread her open a lick from her ass hole to her clit slowly, “this is about me showing you what it feels like for someone to want you so bad they could get lost here,” I say and I push my tongue into her again. Her juices still there from her last orgasm, I lap at them, hungry for her, and unable to get enough of the taste of her. She was perfection. 

“Oh, fuuuuuck, Sev…” she moaned, and I pulled her ass apart and planted a kiss on her pink puckered hole. Licking and probing my tongue slightly into it as my fingers played her clit.

I could tell she was already so close, so I pressed two fingers dip and hard into her and worked her hard and fast this time. My mouth sucking and lapping her clit hard and fast until I heard her call out and buck under me. 

She rode my face as her orgasm peaked and as it came to an end her body quivered under me, and all around me. 

I pulled myself ontop of her and brought my lips to hers and kissed her deep. Letting her taste her sex on my mouth, taste her sweet come. 

“We should go get you fed.” I say at the sound of her stomach growling.

“Yeah, I wasn’t lying when I said I was hungry. But I’m happy you convinced me to stay…twice.” She said, and her smile was back on her face.

“I’m happy you let me convince you to stay.” I say, and I run my hand down her arm, “You are cold, let me get you something to wear.” I say and I hop out of bed, trying to discreetly hide my massive erection. 

I go to my dresser and pull out a pair of long johns and a sweatshirt that had some sort of muggle sports team on it and hand it to her.

I watch as she pulls it over her head and realizes she recognizes the logo, “One of the men that transferred me here wore a hat with this team on it.”

“Were they as unkind to you as they were to me?” I ask half not wanting to know the honest answer.

“They could have been worse,” she says and pulls the black long johns on, without her underwear and I watch as the last glimpse of her nakedness gets covered far too soon.

I grab myself a long sleeve black shirt and pull it over my head. “Its going to start getting cold around here.” I say.

“At least we will have each other to keep warm,” she says, “if I don’t starve to death first.”

I can feel my smile, and it feels good. It feels natural. “Come on,” I say holding out my hand to her, “I have a bag of jellybeans I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

“Severus, no jellybeans.”

I laugh, “I know, I’m fucking with you. Let’s make some dinner.”

Dora

Severus and I take up dancing around each other after our sexual encounter. I agree over the dinner he makes that I may have been a bit extreme in the moment and actually wouldn’t mind slowing down a few paces to get to know each other in other intimate ways, I’ve also just come, so it seems a lot easier in the moment to agree to such terms, he bamboozled me. So, we dance, only this time in stead of dancing to avoid each other, we dance together. 

As we pass each other in the hall we stop and press our bodies together, our hearts pound against one another and he gently kisses my nose. 

At meals we pass each other a plate or bowl and let fingers linger a second longer than need be.

When he comes in from working out back, I greet him with ice water, and I kiss his salty lips. 

And at night when we fall asleep, it’s in each other’s arms. And although it feels highly intimate and sexual, we have yet to cross any new lines. Its as if my need for him to speed things up, showed me how nice it could be to slow things down. 

And while I feel bad I haven’t “returned the favor” so to speak, I can honestly say I don’t think he minds.

We fill the time exploring each other in new ways. Ways that I never realized screamed intimacy.

Like doing a puzzle with someone. I never realized how much is revealed by the way someone puts together a puzzle. I for instance just wing it. I start by picking the prettiest parts of the puzzle, the parts laced with color and I go for it. While Sev is strategic. He started on the outer walls of the puzzle creating a border. Then he separated all the pieces into color piles. Oh, and don’t get me started on what it reveals about someone’s patience. The first time I clumsily dropped a piece on the floor he joked about spanking me if I lost a piece, which oddly enough only turned me on. The second and third time I bumped the table, or my oversized sweater sleeve grazed his pile of blues and took several down he began to literally scowl at me, which also seemingly turned me on. But let me tell you, if at the end of the puzzle there is a missing piece, I might start to fear for my life. 

I’m sure doing the puzzle with Sev revealed to him many things about myself, like my struggle to focus on something for long periods of time. My inability to sit still. And my lack of control around him when he was all focused and slightly grouchy. I usually ended up straddling him and forcing him to make out with me. He grumbles about it at first, but he caves, and I get the kisses I want.

I honestly didn’t realize how structured he is. At everything. His routines are more set-in stone. And he is so meticulous about everything. Like, I had no idea he kept the food at rations before I got there and my snacky Hufflepuff nature threw him off entirely, now we may starve to death. No, really, if they don’t come soon with food we could be in trouble. Because I don’t know how much longer I can eat plan oatmeal and canned fish and chicken on crackers. But mostly because if someone doesn’t get this man some jellybeans he might murder me. Withdrawal is a real thing. 

We’ve also been exploring sleeping with someone for comfort, not because its expected or for sex, which I’m sure we will get there eventually, but we are sleeping together because its comforting and we enjoy each other’s company and because we sleep better. 

Each night after I get ready for bed, which can consist of a shower, shave, lotion, brushed teeth and pajamas, or it can consist of none of the above and me literally stripping down to undies and one of his shirts and hopping into bed while he does his nightly routine, that never wavers. He will shower after a long day of working outside, he will shower even if he doesn’t work outside, and then he brushes his teeth and he always wears fresh pajamas, and I want to envy his selection of flannel bottoms, but I also can’t envy them, since I basically wear them as I please any way. And then he gets two glasses of water, one for him, one for me, and he shuts off the light and climbs in next to me.

Some nights we find ourselves talking for hours. I have learned so much about him I never would have guessed. And I spill my truths as well. We laugh. A lot. His laugh was so rare that the sound of it still catches my breath. I think I’m obsessed with it. Its not a big grand laugh, it low and muted, like a chuckle being held back. But it’s so sexy, making him laugh almost turns me on as much as his body against mine.

He asks me lots of questions, like;

_“Did you like being called Tonks? Before it became… well, hard to hear?”_

_“I did when I was younger, it felt fitting, I was so clumsy, it felt like a name you called a clumsy girl. But when I got older and I matured, it made me feel…less feminine? And instead of asking people to stop calling me it, so I could feel more mature and lady like, I just kept up the act, always being silly, and forever clumsy, and I just never let my feminine side show. Which sucked. Because underneath all the pink hair and freckles, that make me seem so young and wild, I have always been dying to be seen in a sexual way.”_

_“I feel lucky I got told to never call you Tonks.”_

_“Why is that?”_

_“Because I call you Dora, and you are absolutely fucking sexy as Dora.”_

While I find myself asking him questions like:

_“Would you ever fart in front of me Sev?”_

_“What? That’s disgusting Dora. Where do you come up with this shit?”_

_“It’s really not a hard question to answer. Do you think you could ever see yourself comfortable enough around me to fart, if you needed to fart?”_

_“Ok, I know you won’t stop until I answer so, no, I would not fart in front of you because, I do not fart. I am perfect, and I do nothing of the disgusting nature.”_

_“So, you don’t jerk off?”_

_“I do._

_“I thought you don’t do anything of the disgusting nature?”_

_“Ouch, you think me jerking off is disgusting?”_

_“Actually, you are right there, I kinda like the idea of you doing that…maybe one day I can watch.”_

_“No, I wouldn’t fart in front of you.”_

_“You always deflect.”_

_“Because you are difficult.”_

_“Ouch, you think I’m difficult, I find myself rather humorous.”_

_“Actually, you are right there, you are kinda funny, now come over here and kiss me.”_

_“Ahhhh, fart talk turns you on?”_

_“You are a brat… and a tease.”_

And that’s usually where I lose him in our conversations, when I take it a step to far. But I know it makes him laugh deep down inside. He secretly loves my brash sense of humor. And after something like that he may deny me kisses for a short period of time, but he always comes around, and I am highly enjoying learning these things about him.

Some nights we don’t talk at all, we kiss. For hours. The stubble on his face making my lips raw. His fingers memorize me, tracing over my eyes, nose, ears. Holding my hands and intertwining his fingers in mine as many ways as he can find possible. I love to kiss his chest, smooth and hard. He loves to nip at my shoulders. We are mastering kissing slowly. We are mastering touching gently. We are mastering composure. We will eventually lose control.

Severus

“Dora?”

“Yeah?” she says lazily, her head on my naked chest, her lips kissing my lightly. This is how we spend our nights. Tangled together. Kissing, talking, sleeping, laughing.

“If they don’t come soon we could be in trouble.”

“I know.” She says softly. The kisses stop.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for Sev? I’m not dead. I haven’t starved yet. They will come. And after the last three days eating from tin cans, I hope they bring another pizza.”

“I’m sorry I brought you here without knowing we would be safe. Without knowing it would always be secure.”

“So far so good Sev. We are ok. We have stuff to eat. And our bodies can go days without anything at all. And we have fresh water. And we have each other.”

“We do have each other.” I say and run my hand down her back that is covered in one of my plan black shirts.

“Exactly, although, I don’t know if I will be sweet enough for you to eat me, and cannibalism is not really on my list of to do’s so, we might die of hunger after all.”

I laugh, here I thought she was being sappy, leave it to her to make a joke.

“Are you not worried in the slightest?”

“No Sev. I’m not. Before you brought me here, I was worried all the time. This chapter of my life I’m living stress free and allowing what comes to come.”

I smile at this, at her optimism. At me being enough for her. I smile until I hear her stomach growl. And then I can’t smile.

Her hand darts down to her stomach and she tenses. 

“That was bad timing on my stomachs part. I swear I’m not even hungry right now.”

“Fuck, I wish there was something I could do.” I say, my body tense, I want to push her away and sulk at my inability to feed her and protect her. But instead I pull her close.

“There is something you can do Sev.” She says, her mouth kissing my neck. “Take my mind off it. Take _our_ mind off it.” 

She sits up and straddles my lap, pulling me up so my face is to hers. The moon is lighting the room just enough that I can see her face and that she is hungry in more than one way. 

She kisses me softly and slowly rocks her body against mine, creating a perfect friction. She lifts her arms up above her head and I know what she wants, I reach for the hem of her shirt and as I lift it up over her body, I let my hands trace their way up the skin underneath. 

Her breasts are small, and her nipples are a deep pink. I stop everything and stare. She takes the shirt from my hands and tosses it to the floor, freeing my hands. But its not my hands that long to touch her there. It’s my mouth.

I bring my lips to her neck and kiss, trail down to her collar bones, so beautiful and sharp, so feminine. I kiss them and suck at her there. I kiss lower still, until I find her beautiful nipples and I take one into my mouth, sucking at it, she moans and rocks against me harder, my cock aching at days and days of teasing and denying myself. 

I kneed her breast in my hands and my fingers pinch at her nipples, soft and gentle, then a little harder, and she moans again. I press my mouth to her neck and I bite her gently, and her legs clench round my hips, squeezing at my erection, this only makes me take her soft flesh in my mouth again and bite harder, this time she moans louder and my hands grip around her luscious ass cheeks and pull her into my body harder. 

Her lips find mine and she kisses me hard, are teeth clacking together at the force of her and I use my hands to guide her sex up and down my cotton covered erection. Her nails grip into my back and I let out a growl. I flip her over onto her back and pull the pink polka dot underwear off in one shot. My fingers graze over her sex and I can feel how wet she is for me, how hot she is, how fucking tight and throbbing she is. 

I press one finger into her slowly, but I press in deep and draw it out stroking her inner walls, and I can feel her body tremble under me.

“Dora, you are so sexy. I fucking can’t wait any longer.” I say. As I grind my erection into her naked body.

“I want you Sev. I want you so bad.” 

I don’t hesitate. I pull off my pajama bottoms and expose myself to her. Her eyes trace down my body and I remain up on my knees, allowing her to take it in. To explore my body with her eyes. So many nights we have longed for this. One of us always staying strong, to hold off. And now, naked in front of here I felt like a man that she not only wanted and needed, but a man that she knew and accepted, despite what she learned about me in the previous days and weeks.

“You are glorious.” She said, and at that I brought myself down to her body and our skin met once and for all. 

Her legs spread apart to make room for me and my erection felt the wet of her and jerked at the touch. 

“Dora, you are everything. I have never wanted anything more in my life.”

“One day, if they don’t come soon you will want food more than me, so for now, let us forget.” She said, and I knew she might be right, but now, right now, this was all I desired.

I used my hand and lined my erection up to her entrance, my tip instantly wet and hot with her. Her legs spread wider still and I pressed in just slightly, just enough to tell that she was tight and just enough to tell I would not last long.

Her hands gripped at my ass, encouraging me to fill her all the way, her breathing heavy in anticipation. 

I took a deep breath, and I sank into her completely. 

She let out a gasp mixed with pain and pleasure. She was so tight, I thought I would come in one thrust. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, my dick deep inside her, her body trembling.

“Yes…” she moaned, “more, give me more.” She begged.

I pulled my cock out slowly moaning at the feel of her walls tight around me and then I pushed in hard and deep, and stilled myself inside her again. Her legs wrapped around my back and I ground in deeper still as she let out a rasp of a cry. Pleasure. 

I began to pull out again and then pushed in deep and hard. Finding my rhythm. I began to pump inside of her, going deep and grinding into her clit. Her legs gripping my tight I began to move faster and her fingers grab the sheets, bracing herself, I press in hard and fast. I can hear my body begin to slap against hers. I move faster and I can feel her thrusting her ass off the bed pressing up into me still. 

I pull out and slam back into her, taking her as my own. I have no control. I want to stretch her tight pussy around me and I show her desire, show her what our bodies are like joined together. I want to make her come all over me. 

I move faster and harder, keeping my tempo, our bodies slick with sweat, the sound of our skin smacking, I am not going to last much longer, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t come first. I want to make her feel good, and I know she does, I can feel her body quivering and her pussy begin to clench around me, only making her feel that much tighter. I press in deep and hit her sweet spot. I begin rock inside her, making sure I grind into her clit while I also hit her sweetest spot deep inside, she rocks into me, and her face goes wild, her nails grip my back and she lets out a sound of release as she comes.

I can feel her pulsating as I begin to drive into her again. I look into her wild eyes filled with orgasm and she gazes deep into mine and I pull out and thrust in one last hard time and I lose it completely. 

She rocks her hips against me as I spill inside her. And together our climax comes to an end.

I feel my arms go shaky and I collapse on her body, my dick still half hard, inside her, along with my come. 

“Are you ok Dora?” I ask, as I roll off of her and my now softening cock slides out of her. I grab the blanket and cover her naked body, even though I want to stare at it all night, I don’t want her to get cold.

“I’m… I… I just came really fucking hard Sev. That was, wow. I needed that.”

I let out laugh. And I get up to get her a towel to clean off and it hits me.

“Fuck, Dora, no protection, no spell or magic…” I say panicked.

Her smile fades, “It’s ok Sev. I can’t bare children anymore. My womb was cursed when my Aunt killed my child.”

I rush to her and kiss her. “I’m so sorry Dor. I didn’t mean it in any way… I just… Im so sorry Dora.” I kiss her and take her into my arms. She lets me. So, I hold her a minute longer. “Let me go get you a towel, do you need anything else?” I ask.

“A pizza?” she jokes, and my heart comes back to life, her humor always assures me she is ok. We are ok. 

“How about peaches from a can and some stale oyster crackers?” I ask.

“A feast!” she says jotting her fist into the air and I smile, but inside my worry returns. 

Dora

I awake. Well rested. Wearing only one of his shirts and a pair of purple bikini underwear. My body wrapped around pale skin. I can tell he is asleep still; his breathing is heavy, and his arms are loose around me. I take his right hand and look at the dark mark on his wrist and I can’t believe this is my fate. I can’t believe this is the hand I want to hold and the skin I want to kiss for however long this life ridden with war allows me. 

I bring the soft skin of his wrist to my mouth and kiss the dark ink there, partly to show myself it doesn’t bother me, partly to show him. 

I suddenly miss his company, even though he is physically under me and surrounding me, I miss him deeper than I’ve ever missed anyone before. 

I start to kiss his chest. Small pecks, easing him awake. I can feel his heart rate quicken under my lips and his breath catches and I glance up to see a smile on his face. 

“Good morning.” I say, kissing still, moving up his chest to his neck that is scruffy under my mouth. 

“This might be my new favorite way to wake up.” He says and pulls me further on top of him, and I can feel he is as excited as I am this morning to be with each other.

“What used to be your favorite way to wake up?” I ask, kissing his ear and right below it.

“Alone.” He says and then pulls the blankets up and over our heads, like children do when trying to hide.

“I promise, you wont ever miss waking up alone again, Sev.” I say, pressing my lips to his, kissing him deep despite the obvious morning breath. 

He kisses me back and his hands pull the shirt I’m wearing over my head in one motion. Our kiss grows hungry and I pull the blanket from over our heads, letting the light expose my now very naked breast and I grind myself into his huge morning boner, sitting upright, letting him take me in. His eyes are heavy and full of lust. I love him this way, wanting me, seeing me. 

I sit up on my knees and he catches on, his hands fly to his pajama pants and he yanks them down, all his glory springs to life, so hard and thick and beautiful, I have never seen a more magnificent cock.

Hungry to have him in me again, I pull my underwear over to the side and start to slide his cock inside me, he groans as I lower myself onto his tip, wetting it with my sex, then pulling up. Then lowering myself even deeper. He stretches me wide as I sink completely on to him. I don’t move, I just grind against him. Forcing him to go as deep as he can. 

His hands find my hips and he pulls my body to rock. His fingers tight on my ass cheeks, gripping, squeezing, I begin to move. I begin to ride him and grind my clit onto him and swirl my hips around. He groans as my body moves different ways. I keep him guessing. Keep him wanting more. His hands grow tighter on my ass, his nails and digging into me, grinding me hard against him, I start to ride him hard, and fast, my tits dancing with my bodies motion. The friction on his body on my clit makes me begin to pulsate and grip around his cock. His face tightens and his breathing is rough. 

Knowing he is close sets me off, I sink deep onto him, hard, and grind myself onto him, his cock hitting me deep and I lose it. I clench around him, my legs tighten, and I feel his hips buck up into mine as he feels me with hot shots of his come. 

As my climax comes to an end, I lean down to him and press my forehead to his and kiss him slowly and the sensation returns to my toes and as his body begins to relax. I can feel him going soft inside me and I let him slide out of me and feel the head of come drip down my thigh and strange thoughts flood my mind, I was to dip my hand there and lick it from my fingers. I want to rub it all over my body. I want to feel it hot on my chest. I want to have it spill down my throat. 

My arms give out and I collapse on his chest. We are both still breathing heavily. 

“Dora, you can wake me up like that anytime you want.” He finally says, breaking our blissed-out silence.

My heart races at the thought of that, morning sex, he likes it. Remus was always gone, or slept too late, or said no, because he felt gross or morning breath or what ever reason he could come up with to get me to leave him alone, to get out of fucking me.

“I should have brushed my teeth first.” I say, suddenly feeling self-conscious from my memories of Remus’s hang ups. 

And as if reading my mind, Severus pulls my mouth to his and kisses me deep, using his lips to open mine wide as he lapped at my mouth, sucking and kissing and licking me like I was a breakfast fest. Sucking at my bottom lips, then nipping it before, stopping.

“I’ll have you any way I can get Dora.”

I kiss him again, softly, and my stomach lets out a mighty growl. I feel his lips turn into a scowl.

“Its ok Sev. I’m fine.”

“We maybe have two more days left of food Dora. I should have rationed better. I’m sorry. Maybe we should refrain… from…”

“What? Sex?”

“Yes, maybe we shouldn’t burn our extra calories, until we know for certain we have some food.”

“Let’s say it doesn’t ever come, and we starve to death, at least we will starve to death happy.”

“They will come. They will be here soon. They have never not come in all my months here. It will be fine.”

“Ok. I believe it, now you need to believe it.” I say, kissing him again, because I can, and because I want to, and because he wants me too.

“I have an idea.” He says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, come take a quick shower with me. We can wash away the hunger.” 

“A quick shower?” I ask, incredulously.

“Ok, maybe not too quick, I wouldn’t mind kissing you some under the hot water, washing you from head to toe. Making you nice and clean.”

“Sounds like the perfect start to our day.” I say.

“No, the perfect start was you waking me with kisses.” He says and adjusts himself in his pajamas as he gets out of bed, “I’ll start the water, come join me when you are ready.”

He goes into his attached bathroom and I hear the water start, I wait a minute to let the water warm up and give him a chance to miss me when I hear a pounding at the front door. 

I jump to my feet and throw his shirt on and his pajama bottoms from last night. 

I burst into the bathroom and he is already wrapping a towel around his naked body, my stomach stirs at the sight of him even in this situation.

“The door! Someone’s at the door!!” I shout.

“I heard.” He says and pushes past me, “You stay here, I’ll go make sure it’s safe.”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“Like hell, stay here until I call for you. I won’t let anything happen to you. You are all I have.” He says and leans in to kiss my cheek. 

I just stand there taken aback as he pushes by me wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips and shuts the door behind himself.

He wants to protect me. I never let Remus protect me. I never took no for an answer. This time around maybe I can learn a thing or two from my past.

I press my ear to the door and I can hear low talking, but I’m almost certain I can make out a women’s voice, possibly Beth, then I hear footsteps headed to the room, I jump back and grab a heavy vase off the bed side table, just in case, and prepare myself for the worst case scenario.

The door opens slowly, “Dor, its ok, its Beth and Luther.” 

I sit the vase down and he smiles, I just shrug, “What? I wanted to be prepared, constant vigilance.” I say, “You should probably put some clothes on.”

“You stole mine.” He says, looking me up and down and heads to the dresser and pulls out jeans and a shirt, and pulls them on, commando, I feel my self flush at this, “We are taking that shower when they leave.” He says and kisses me one last time before we head to greet our guests.

Snape

As we walk into the kitchen Beth and Luther are already bringing in boxes of food. More than normal. And sitting on the table is a bag of food that smells amazing.

I can’t help but notice Dora in all of my clothing, my shirt, my pants, will they notice? If they did notice would she care? Or is being with me something she is ok with in private, but would never admit in the real world, where other people with opinions live.

Beth notices us and heads straight to hug Dora, “How are you dear? I know its been far too long between drop offs, but long story short, we have been being trailed. One of the seven safe houses I see over was compromised and people lost their lives. Its bad out there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I feel like I should fight. I feel like I shouldn’t be here safe.” Dora says, and my stomach drops, because of course she should be here, with Bellatrix being her aunt and the target on her back, she has a number one kill order by the dark lord himself. She absolutely should not be out there fighting any longer.

Also, I can’t lose her.

“Dora, there is something else.” Beth says. And I can see panic in Dora’s eyes, so I take her by the hand and lead her to sit at the kitchen table, “Your mother…”

“My mother what? Tell me!”

“She is alive.”

“What? She’s alive? How did you… where did you… how can you be sure?”

“She has been working in the underground. Her body was retrieved from the blast at the train station and the witch that took her in and brought her back to health runs part of the underground. Your mom is still fighting.”

I see Dora’s face deep in thought, but her silence is what scares me. I know what she is thinking, and selfishly I know its only a matter of time now that I lose her, and I know, if I lose her, she will die.

Because I know how bad her Aunt wants her dead. I know because I sat next to her at the table where we would discuss the biggest threat to the Dark Lord, and Dora’s name, had become number one after Mad Eye, Potter, Lupin and Dumbledore were dead. And, they were all dead.

“Dora, if you would like to write her a letter I could try and get it to her. It would have to be hidden messages, maybe things only the two of you would know, so no one is compromised further, but I would be willing to do that for you.” Beth says, and Dora stays silent, biting her inner lip, I’ve never seen her do this before and it worries me.

I walk to her and squat in front of her, take her hands in mine, they are clammy and they don’t grip my hands back, “Dora, do you want to go lay down, or go think or even write that letter? Do you need some space?” I ask, trying not to be too obvious that I love her. Trying not to let on too much that I want nothing more than to hold her and tell her to breathe and that it will be ok.

She finally looks up at me, her face is blank. Then she looks up at the bag on the table, “Is this food for us?” she asks absently.

“All yours,” Beth says with a sad smile, “I hope you like Chinese.”

“I love anything right now that does not come from a can.” She says, and gestures for me to sit.

I take the seat next to her and she pulls out the white take out boxes of food. She opens one and the smell of ginger fills my nose, I’m starving. I reach for a different box and open it and its full of beef broccoli, and without thinking like a wild animal I dip my finger in and pull out a piece of the beef and toss it into my mouth.

Beth brings us both a plate and scoop piles of different types of Chinese food onto them, orange chicken, and fried rice, chow mien and egg rolls. Dora puts red hot sauce on everything, and I leave mine as is as we devour the food on our plates in a strange silence.

Halfway through what we served ourselves we start to slow down, “I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach.” Dora says.

“Me too.” I say, and I look deep into her eyes. The food was a nice distraction for her, a way to avoid continuing the conversation about her mother. But we were done eating now and dread fills me.

I take our plates and put what we didn’t eat back into the takeout boxes and save it for later. We went to long without food to waste now.

Dora stands, “I actually have a little list of things that I would love for you to try and get, I know its not easy, but, if you could try I would greatly appreciate it.” She says, and Beth nods. Then she leaves for her room.

Beth continues to unpack boxes as Luther brings them in. I begin to help too, unpacking things and taking mental notes of what came in this shipment.

“Seems like you and Dora are getting along better?” Beth asks, with no hint that she knows just how good we are getting along.

“Yeah, we had to fight through some shit. And we didn’t talk for many days. But the only thing worse then talking to your enemy is sitting in silence, so she came around.” I say.

“Severus, you are not the enemy, you never were, don’t give Voldermort that much power over you. You are free of him.”

I nod, but not because I agree, more because I don’t want to talk about it. 

“You brought a lot more than usual.” I say, hinting at the massive number of boxes scattered across the kitchens black and white checkerboard tile. 

“Severus, I don’t want to scare you, but to be in the dark could harm you.” She said, taking a deep breath as I nod her on, “Its bad out there. Its so bad I don’t know when I will be back. If I’ll be back. If…if I’ll even survive. The war has escalated. There is this new sense of kill or be killed. The muggles are fighting beside us now. Magic secrecy is almost gone.”

“Beth, what should we do, Dora and I?”

“Stay. Stay put.” She said firmly.

“How can we stay when we, I, know what’s going on?”  


“You can and will stay because you would be a distraction, and we don’t need that. We need clear heads in the fight. Dora would have too many people, her mother included, trying to watch her back, and you, you would have enemy and ally wanding for you! It took months for Dora to trust you, and there is no time to explain and gain trust when you have a hundred wands pointing at you from every angle. So, your place is here, with Dora, keeping her safe, and distracted…”

She said that last part incredulously, did she suspect? Or was she hinting at the possibility. “Fine. Done. But its not me that needs convincing. And I refuse to keep information from Dora, no lies, I wont lie anymore, it’s not an option.”

“That’s fine. And Severus...”

“Yeah?”

“I brought you the things you requested; they were not easy to find but I’m happy you are doing this. Building something to keep you occupied and what you are doing for Dora, you are a better man than you know.”

“No, I know what kind of man I am, and its not anything to write home about, but I also know she is worth it. Trying to be better. So, thank you, for finding it.”

I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Dora, standing with a letter in her hands, folded tight, like it had been opened and closed a million times already. “Finding what?” she asks.

“Beth was able to get me a few things, things that could help us in the long run.”

“Oh, I see,” she walks and hands Beth the note, “Its frivolous stuff really, makes me feel stupid asking, knowing my mom is alive and fighting, but the warm clothes, those I can use.”

“I brought a suitcase with some clothes for you Dora, I wasn’t sure your size but there is warm clothing and some feminine things that I thought you might like, but I will take a look at the list and see if I missed anything, for next time…”

“Tell her,” I say, “tell her about next time.”

Dora looks between the two of us, “Tell me what about next time?”

“Dora the war is bad and there might not be a next time…Not for a while anyway.”

“I figured as much. What with all the boxes.”

“Dora, how are you feeling, you just found out your mother is alive, how is this sitting with you?” Beth asks, softly.

“How is it sitting with me? I want to leave, now! I want to go and fight. I want to throw myself beside her and take them all down. I want to hug her and cry. I want to scream… but more than anything, I am just thankful to know, for certain that she is alive… for now. Because worse than thinking your loved one is dead, is not knowing. So thank you.”

Hearing her voice tremble, seeing her eyes well, the room became just Dora and I and I took her into my arms. Her body lax in mine. I kiss the top of her head and whisper, “I’m here. I got you.” And I don’t let her go until the room reappears and I hear Beth clear her throat.

We break our embrace, and step apart to look at Beth, standing there a smirk between endearment and shock on her face.

“So, before I go, a few things; first, if something were to happen, worst case scenario I am killed, the barrier will fall, and you will be able to leave, but you will have to walk miles, to the north to hit civilization. If I am to be captured, I will release the barrier as well. But it is really coming down to the wire here. And anything is possible. So, expect the worst and plan for it. I wish there were more I could do. But I can’t promise you anything. So, ration. And Merlin be with us all.”

And then she took us both in an embrace and kissed the top of Dora’s head and gave me a firm squeeze of the shoulder and she was gone. Possibly forever. 

Dora

As we watched Beth and Luther leave the barrier comes down around us and I felt two things; I felt trapped and I felt the warmth of his hand take mine. And my knees went weak. It was all too much. My mother alive. The war at an all time high. The possibility of safety removed. My want to leave. My need to stay. The longing for the comfort of my mother’s eyes. The present comfort I find in his arms.

It was all too much.

“Dora?” he asks, watching me intently as my focus on the barrier glazes over with tears and my chest grows heavy and claustrophobic.

“Yeah Sev?” I say, trying to steady my breathing, panic setting in that I’m trapped again.

“What can I do?” he asks.

There’s nothing. Not at this moment.

“Be honest with me.” I say.

“Always.” He says. And I believe him.

I drop down to the porch step and have a seat. It’s become _our_ place. Our place for hard discussions. Our place for sweet kisses. Our place for star gazing. Our place for silent reflections. Our place for honest answers.

He sits next to me and I feel his fingers brush pale pink hair behind my ear. So gentle. So attentive. 

“Would you think less of me if I told you I want to leave, at all cost. Knowing I would risk it all. Knowing I could end up killed. Knowing it may cause the people around me to be killed?”

“How could I? Half of my life was spent fighting for the wrong side. The other half was spent faking that I was fighting for the wrong side. My life is full of me causing a snowball of death and destruction. I have no place judging anyone Dorr.”

I stay silent at this. I can’t argue with his candor.

He keeps his gaze on me. I keep my gaze on the filmy haze of the barrier. And out to the North. Miles and miles of nothing. Our escape route. Our death sentence is all around us. Safety is only in the moments you can escape inside you mind long enough to forget you are fated.

“Sev?” I ask again, shakily, a cool tear trails my warm cheek. His finger traces it away before it can fall from my face, “Sev, would you…” my voice cracks, “would you think less of me if I didn’t want to leave at all? Not even a little? Would you think I’m selfish and a coward that when I found out my mother was alive the only thing that scared me was that I might have to fake wanting to leave, out of pride, when all I want is to stay here safe with you?”

He pulls me into his arms, my tears are falling too fast for him to catch them one by one, so instead they fall to the hot dirt under our feet, never making a mark as the sun dries them before they can be seen.

“Dora, how could I ever think less of you for that? I can tell you firsthand, as a man that will need years and years of proving himself, that staying safe, might be the most noble and selfless thing you can do right now. Everyday I think giving my life in the fight would be the best and only sacrifice I could make to prove that I’m not who they think I am. To prove to myself that I am not who _I_ think I am. But I stay. I stay here safe. While they die. While they fight. While they clean up the mess I attributed to. I stay here and the only thing I can do is wait. For it to end. All I can do is be here with you, someone in the same place as me, stuck, and wanting to fight. All I can do is stay here and love you. Love you every fucking day that I have air, and food and shelter. That’s all I can do. And the worst part; it gotten easy. Being here. It has gotten so fucking easy. And that makes my stomach twist and turn sometimes. But it’s gotten easy because while out there I have a cause worth dying for, in here, under this barrier, trapped, I have something worth living for.”

I can’t breathe at his admission. I try to speak and all I get out is his name.

“Sev…” I say, but he cuts me off, and takes my face into his hands, he steadies his breathing, lowers his voice.

“Maybe its selfish, but I can’t lose you. And if I let you leave. If I let you fight you _will_ die. And if you die, I die too. So, lets fight here, in this place. Let’s fight for each other. Let’s fight to have each other to live for Dora.”

“Okay Sev. Let’s fight.” I say in barley a whisper.

“I love you.” He says.

“I know.” I say back, “Thank you for making that the one thing I _don’t_ have to fight for anymore.”

“Never, nothing has come more natural to me.” He says and stands and takes my hands to pull me up. “Let’s go.” he leads me into the house.

Dora

_Entry 67_

_Mother is alive._

_And a little piece of me is dead._

_The part of me that longs for the fight. It’s dead._

_I used to write in the journal to document everything, my legacy, and a memoir of the war, so later we could learn from it, if we win._

_But that’s not my job. Its not my job to be so immersed in the hurt and the pain that I forget to live._

_So, this is my final entry. For now. I can’t promise I won’t need a safe place again._

_But now, in this moment, I am safe. I’ve found my place. I am loved._

_So, for now, I am going to be in the moment._

_And that’s okay. I think mom would be proud. I think she would want this._

_I am Nymphadora Tonks_

_And I’m signing off._

Snape

Its strange really, the way the dust settled. Weeks ago I thought I would lose her. I thought she would run full steam ahead into the war, along side her mother. 

I would have let her.

And that makes me question myself as her lover. As the man that loves her.

I would have let her choose and if she chose to leave it would have haunted me. Just the idea of letting her go without a fight haunts my memory. Knowing she always fought for him, begged him, I feel its my duty to always fight for her and beg of her what ever it is that needs begging for. Its my duty to show her she can rest now and let someone else do the fighting and begging for once.

I have been in the work shed a lot. Finishing my project. With Beth bringing me the few things I needed I will be able to show Dora it tonight. I know its been driving her crazy not knowing. So, to drive her a little crazier, because I have grown to love her frantic inability to not know everything, I keep telling her its almost done, and not giving her a date.

She has been spending most of her time outside too. Beth, being the smart woman she is brought us everything we needed to start a full garden. A variety of fruits and veggies to plant. If only we had magic to grow them along, we might have food before we starve to death.

It’s hard.

Not thinking that way.

Its hard because before I wouldn’t have cared. But now, now I care. 

The garden has been so good for her. She didn’t have something to call her own here and that has become her project. It has given her purpose. Although, you can tell she has never gardened a day in her life. She fumbles about, but she makes it happen. And there is more upside to it for me than I would have imagined.

The first being the obvious, the idea of food growing here for survival. Also, the joy it brings Dora. She has her silly pep back in her step these days. She smiles a lot. And her nose and cheeks are full of color from the sun hitting them all day. It makes her freckles pop. 

I am crazy for her freckles.

The second being less obvious. I love the garden because at the end of the day, when I’m covered in saw dust and sweat, she meets me at the porch, covered in dirt and a hard days work. 

Most days we just sit there, in our spot. A spot that has become our place for many things, reflection and jokes, laughing about what an ass I was at Hogwarts and how far away that feels. Me incessantly teasing her about her inability to not spill something at the dinner table. 

It’s become our spot for holding hands. Mine ruff now, and calloused. Her’s remaining soft despite her days with a shovel and rake. That’s Dora though, so tough, but always so soft. 

It has become our place for where our soft touches start, when exhaustion hits and she leans into me. My hands massaging her shoulders. My lips kissing her salty neck before I lead her to a hot shower so I can wash away the day from her. The water at our feet often tinged with the day’s dirt, going down the drain, a reminder that we lived. A reminder that tomorrow we get to do it all over again. 

Build and plant and talk and kiss and fuck or make love depending on the mood and shower. And wash it away. Repeat.

This is our luxury.

We both decided not to take it for granted.

We both decided not to take it in vain.

And we haven’t. 

I finish up in the shed, the sun is setting, and I need to do the final touches to the project before sun set, so I hurry to the garden. 

I find Dora on hands and knees, dirt to her elbows. She goes to wipe sweat from her forehead and smears the dirt across her face. She curses under her breath and I watch as she then lifts her shirt to wipe the smudge and ends up with dirt in her hair.

I can’t help myself. 

I quietly watch her struggle against herself in the battle of dirt and Dora, until I laugh. She is helpless sometimes. And I love that. 

She turns quickly to face me, one eye closed and watering, I can only assume she got dirt in it as well, and a scowl on her face.

“I hate when you do that.” She says.

I only shrug.

“I hate when you are all stealthy. Its creepy.”

“I have been known to be a rather creepy guy.” I joke.

“Yeah, no kidding, creep.” She stands dusting off her knees. She looks beautiful. I love her like this. 

“Your only mad because you couldn’t sneak up on me if you tried, and you have tried several times… and failed.”

“Well, at least I can take pride in knowing I’m not a creep.”

“You are covered in dirt.” I say, helping her dust off her ass, because she definitely needs help there. Also, she has an amazingly perfect ass.

At this she wraps her filthy arms around my shoulders and kisses me softly. “I missed you today.” She says in my ear.

“How can you miss me when I’m right here Dora?” I know what she means. I get it. But I ask anyway. Because I want to hear it. Because I’m a glutton for her.

“I was just gardening, and I kept thinking of funny things and I realized I want to share all the funny things with you. And I was just a mess with the dirt today. And I just kept thinking, if Sev could see this he would give me such a hard time, and it just made me miss you. Even if it meant you making fun of me while I half garden, half drown in dirt and seeds.”

“Then I have good news for you.” I say.

“Oh?” she asks.

“I’m done. With my project. So, from now on if you miss me while gardening you can just come get me and I’ll come make fun of you all you want.” I say.

“Wait, so I get to see the finished project now!”

“Well, no. Not now, now. Let’s shower and you can make dinner while I do one last thing to it before I show you!”

“Was that your way of getting me to cook you dinner?”

“No, but now that you mention it, it worked out well.”

“Sneaky creep. That’s what you are.” She jokes and kisses me again; I can taste earth on her mouth. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up.” I say. Because her earthy kisses have me suddenly wanting more.

Dora

We have this routine. When we shower. And we always shower together now. 

We both squeeze into the tiny bathroom. I start the water and he undresses. I feel I am robbed by this as I don’t get to watch him take his clothes off, but I settle because when he is good and naked, he undresses me. 

It crazy how he can make everything seem sensual. How he can make stripping away my sweaty, filthy clothes feel so romantic. He lets long fingers find perfect placement on my skin as he slides them off. His face close to my neck as he leans in to unbutton my jeans. His breath warm on my skin as he lowers himself down my naked breast to remove my panties. How he sometimes nuzzles his face into my sex and kisses at my skin there before he stands back up. Us both fully naked. The room filling with steam.

I get in first and let the water dose my pink curls. He comes in after letting the water smooth out a black curtain around his face. The contrast of us is stark, we make a beautiful wet picture together.

Today, as the water pours between us, I can tell we will rush through the next part of our shower routine. The part where he slowly washes my every inch. The part where I do the same.

He lathers up the soap, “Close your eyes.” He says in my ear and I do, I trust him. He washes my dirt covered face carefully. “You’re a bloody mess Dora.” He laughs, and I feel the water carry the suds down my body and to the drain. 

His hands lather again, and he massages the soap over my shoulders, his hands strong. Down my back and around my waist. Up to my breast where he kneads them in his soapy hands, his fingers pinching my nipples, making them hard. This makes me throb, in my core. 

He lathers again, but this time he quickly washes his face, his body, his hard cock. I reach down and help him, taking him in my hands, stroking his soapy erection. He lets out a groan. It makes me ache for him. 

He lathers the soap one last time and slips his hands between my legs. I prop one leg on the bathtub ledge allowing room for the lather of his fingers to clean me and clean me well.

They trace between my legs, caressing me and cleaning me. Trailing up to my ass where he gently applies more pressure, stimulating me even more. 

The water rinses us both free of the soap. He uses his hands to bring more water to my lady parts to help the soap along. 

We are clean. 

But we are far from finished.

He pushes wet pink hair from my face and as the water pours between our lips he kisses me deep. The hot water intruding into our mouths, the mix of tongues and water working together as we kiss. 

His hands find my breast and he grips them, firm, sending currents to my already throbbing core. He pinches my nipples again, this time harder, and I moan at the teeter of pain and pleasure.

His mouth finds my nipples and he sucks at them, bringing his teeth to nip. His mouth working my nipples, his hand finding its place between my legs.

I lift my leg again for him and he pushes a finger deep within me. Curling it with my body, pushing in hard to hit my sweet spot deep within. He pulls out his finger and presses two in, in return; I moan.

He drops to his knees. Black hair masking his face. He pushes my legs further apart and plunges her face into me. His mouth on my sex. Hard and wanting. Pressing his tongue into me deep, burrowing his nose against my clit. 

His hands find my ass and pushes my cheeks apart, making more room for his face. 

Then his mouth on my clit, he begins to suck and pull there. Pressure and the flicking of his tongue bringing my body to a peak. He presses two fingers deep inside me and works me hard as a writhe against his mouth. 

My knees trembling, I grip onto the wall for balance as I begin to climax. I clench around his fingers as I pulse at my orgasm. His mouth still sucking at my clit as I cum hard. His hands hold me steady.

As I start to relax against his face, he gently kisses my mound and stands up to greet my mouth under the water once again. Holding me tight in my pre orgasm splendor. 

Knees week. Toes slightly numb. Smile huge.

“I loved that.” I say, of course I did.

He smirks under our kiss. He knows I did as well.

Snape

We make love after our shower and with the sun setting fast I rush to get dressed after so I can get a head start on setting up the surprise. She opts to throw together a soup for dinner as the nights are getting cold. And I rush to the shed.

I gather all the parts and pieces I need to finalize the surprise but as I walk past the kitchen window, I peek in to make sure she is not snooping. 

She’s not. She is dancing and singing as she chops the last of the carrots. 

I linger at the window for a split second longer than I wanted. I stand there and take her in. Sliding around on the old tile floor in a pair of my socks, singing a Weird Sisters song. Weird Sisters, I always found them overrated. She is only wearing a deep green oversized pullover sweater. If I’m lucky there will be no panties on underneath. 

I smile and head to the porch. When I get there, I can smell the soup from inside and my stomach rumbles, but I get to work. The sun is almost gone now, and I need what’s left of the light to finish.

Dora

“I can hear you, ya creep.”

I turn around and Sev is standing in the doorframe of the kitchen. His hands in the pockets of some blue jeans. His hair is pulled back low on the back of his head, wisps of his dark hair have escaped while he was doing what ever it is he needed to do to wrap up the surprise. 

I’m going to die laughing if he built coffins for us.

Also, when did my humor get so dark?

I want to make a death eater joke right now, but I don’t want to kill the mood, so I push the coffin joke aside and walk to the handsome man making an old barn style kitchen look sexy and mysterious.

“I wasn’t trying to be quiet.” He says. “I wonder if I’ll ever tire watching you.”

I step on tip toes and kiss his lips. He wraps his arms loosely around me.

“That’s not creepy...” I joke and he picks me up and gathers me into his arms, “Sev!” I shout as he carries me to the front door, “Put me down.”

“No. I can’t wait any longer. I have to show you.”

“I can walk you know!” I say, excepting that he is not letting me down so I stop fighting it and relax into his arms.

“I know. Just go with it.”

“Its like you are carrying me over the threshold of our home, only you are carrying me outside.” I joke.

“Is that a marriage joke?” he stops and looks me dead on.

“I think it was.” I realize. We have never talked about anything like that. Outside of saying I love you; I think for the most part we dance around conversations about our future at all. The future is too bleak. We stay in the present. It’s easier that way.

He starts to walk again and stops at the front door. 

He puts me down and takes my hand.

“Close your eyes until I say.”

I do.

Then he guides me out the door. Cool air hits my bare skin and I shiver.

“Keep them closed.”

I do.

I hear him switch a flip inside and then he is next to me again. I don’t know why but my eyes are closed so tight.

“Ok Dora, open your eyes.”

I slowly open them. 

He grabs my hand and squeezes tight. His eyes on my face. I can feel his gaze.

My eyes glitter as I open them to twinkling lights wrapping around the chains of a beautiful wooden swing that is hanging on our porch, in our place. 

I take it in. My eyes skating over his beautiful woodwork when I notice something in the corner of the seat. I walk over to the swing leaving Sev behind and I see what it says:

Severus & Dora

I turn to him and his eyes are wide, begging me to speak to say anything. I wrap my arms around him and whisper in his ear, “This is beautiful Sev.”

He whispers back, “Not as beautiful as you.” And kisses me.

The twinkle lights give off a glow that makes me feel like we are in a romantic story. 

“Does it work?” I ask, breaking the mood, like I do, and he laughs.

“I don’t know, I honestly didn’t try it yet.”

“Should we?” I ask.

“Yeah, on the count of three.” He says, and we back up to the swing.

“This better not be a death trap.” I joke.

He only shakes his head at my poor timing of humor and counts, “One, two, three!”

We both sit, and the chains give a bit of squeak. We look at each other, almost waiting for it to fall, but it doesn’t. We break out in laughter and then… we swing.

Severus

“It didn’t fall.” I say, as we start to swing.

“No, it sure didn’t. Its perfect Sev. We are never leaving this porch now.”

“Dora, I have something else for you…” I say, reaching to my back pocket.

She looks at me in shock. And that makes me smile.

“Two surprises in one night? What did I do to deserve you?” she asks.

“You believed me.” I say, and she leans in and kisses my cheek.

“I don’t have anything to give you. Now I feel bad. I didn’t even know we were doing some sort of gift exchange.”

I want to tell her she gave me everything already the day she trusted me. The day she let me into her heart. But I don’t. Instead I hand her the little parcel that I wrapped with old Sudoku puzzles she had finished.

“Sev…”

“Dora?”

“I love you.” She says. And I’ve heard it before. But it feels different tonight. It feels like a gift.

“I know.” I say back, using her tricks on her, “Now, can you open the damn gift. The anticipation is killing me.”

“Okay, okay.”

Dora

I tear away the old puzzle pages. My heart stops.

Bacon and egg socks.

Bacon and egg socks!

“I know they don’t move or sizzle, and they don’t smell like breakfast. They won’t remind you to wash them and they will never dance around on your feet. But I hope when you are having a rough day here, and you will have plenty. I hope you can look at these socks and think of your dad, and how he always wanted to remind you to be happy. And think of you mother, who is still fighting…and…think of Remus, who loved you… who died fighting. I want you to look at these ridiculous socks and find happiness. I want you to look at these socks and know, that even under this barrier, here with me, we can find happiness.” 

I can feel the heat on my cheeks as the tears start to fall. 

I can feel the swing come to a stop.

I can feel warm hands pull me into a safe place against a pounding heart and a comforting shoulder.

I can feel a soft kiss to the top of my head, then my cheek.

And then… I can feel as the barrier lifts. 

A gust of new air rushes in, more bitter and raw. Crisp and fragrant of the outside world. Outside of our bubble.

I look at Severus and his eyes are transfixed on the haze melting away. Then I look back out at what used to be our prison bars, now gone. Expecting to see a car. Expecting to see Beth or Luther. Expecting to see green lights flashing and the end. Expecting to see anything. 

We sit in shock on our swing.

We sit in silence.

I’ve never heard silence like this before.

It’s the kind of silence that even animals’ sense.

This is the sound of nothing.

“Dora, do you see that.” He finally says. It seems to echo through the great wide open. 

“Yeah. Where did it go?”

“I don’t know.”

“What should we do?” I ask.

“What do you want to do?”

I look around at our new found freedom. I take in our ability to go anywhere in the world at this very moment. I look at the man next to me, uncertainty written on his face.

So, I lean down and slip off the over sized black socks of his that cover my toes and tangle them in a ball.

I pull the egg and bacon socks onto my feet and stand up and reach for Severus’ hand.

“I want to go home.” I say. And he smiles. He knows.

“Me too.” He says.

So, we do.

We turn on the spot, and walk back into the little farmhouse together, hand in hand. 

I’m Nymphadora Tonks. And this is Home now.


End file.
